Into Wounds Like These
by InvisibleEvidence
Summary: GSR. With Grissom struggling with his feelings for Sara, he fails to notice her increasing obsession with a case that has devastating consequences for them both.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! Okay, so this is a brand new story, set around season 3/4ish - Sara-centric fic but lots of GSR too. I haven't written a story with a case in it before, so this should be fun. Your comments are very much appreciated. Just to say, because this has got a crime case in it, there are descriptions of scenes which are M rated, and this whole story will be M rated. Well, here it goes.

Into Wounds like These

Chapter One

Grissom spread the files out over the desk in his office, a pen in his hand, and his eyes on the papers before him. Catherine and Warrick were talking about Lindsey wanting to get her ears pierced, Nick was eyeing the contents of the shelves in the office, still seemed mesmerized by the glass jars of assorted items, even though he'd seen them every day for five years. Sara was stood watching Grissom read the files, she watched him study the information, deep in thought. She could watch him for hours, and had done in the past, out of the corner of her eye, she was always interested in what Grissom did - she had learnt almost everything about crime scene investigation from him, from her lecture with him six years ago in San Francisco, to every new day she spent in the Vegas lab. He fascinated her.

Grissom cleared his throat, "We've got two new cases tonight. First, man found dead in his car, scene suggests drug overdose, but windows are smashed in. Second, a woman in her apartment, lived alone, strangulation and possible rape. Nick, Warrick, Sara, you've got the first. Catherine and I will take the second."

"I want the second." Sara spoke up. She wanted this case; it hit a nerve with her. She wanted to find the bastard who did it.

"No, Sara." Grissom's reply was stern.

"Why not?" She pushed, feeling the rest of the team's eyes on her, but she didn't care. No one else gave a damn which case they had, as long as they solved it in the end. She wanted this one.

"Because I have assigned Catherine and I to it."

"What does that matter?" Sara knew she'd now overstepped the mark, but she rarely asked for a particular case.

"It doesn't matter, Gil, Sara can take it." Catherine piped up.

Sara smiled at her, and Catherine gave a little smile back, but Sara knew Catherine's intervention would annoy Grissom more.

Grissom stayed silent for a second, his eyes returning to the case files on his desk. "Nick, Warrick, Catherine." He handed one of the case files to the threesome. "Sara, I'll see you in the car."

Sara spun on her heel and left his office, going to the locker room to pick up her kit and jacket. Nick followed her.

"Pretty keen on the case, Sara?" he grinned at her, an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

She smiled at him, and shrugged, not wanting to get into a conversation about it. "Just didn't want another drugged up DB."

"You're gonna be on decomps for a month after this." Warrick joined them as they entered the locker room.

"Like it'd make any difference, I've been on them for months already." It was like Grissom wanted her to permanently smell of rotting, she'd lost count of the amount of lemons she'd gone through trying to wash the smell off of herself. What possessed him to give her the cases he did was beyond her. She slipped her case bag's strap over her shoulder, and said her goodbyes to Warrick and Nick before making her way out to Grissom's car.

Grissom was already sat in his black jeep, the engine running, his eyes on the parking lot around them. Sara shivered slightly at the cold breeze, it was already dark outside, 7pm in October. She wore a three-quarter length black t-shirt, jeans, black boots and her Sidle CSI vest jacket. Climbing into the passenger seat of Grissom's car, she buckled her seatbelt as he reversed out of his parking space in the lab's car park.

The drive to the victim's apartment was in silence, Sara watching out the car window at the scenes that passed them through the journey. People going home from work, people going out for their Friday night drinking session, people without a home – the world around her could so easily be overwhelming with the stories each and every person had, their thoughts, their pasts, their futures. Grissom had once told her that everyone commits at least one crime in their lifetime, she wondered what crimes all these people had committed, or were going to commit.

Grissom eventually pulled up outside the victim's apartment block. The area of Vegas was nice, and other than the four apartment blocks in the vicinity, parks and grass areas surrounded the nearby area. The apartment block itself looked nice, it was one of the newer complexes to be built in Vegas, Sara had looked into renting there when they had first opened, but the waiting list was too long, and she'd instead opted for an apartment block a few miles away from the lab. They both exited the car and a police officer showed them into the building.

The entrance was white and clean; two staircases led off to either side, two lifts in between. They entered one of the lifts, and the police officer pressed '5' on the number pad. Once on level 5, they wandered down the white corridors to room 515. The door was open from the police investigation, but there were no signs of forced entry.

"We haven't touched a thing, sir. Neighbour called us at 4pm, said he hadn't seen or heard from the lady for a couple of days, wasn't answering her door, hadn't seen her go to work etc., landlord gave us a key to get in, had a gloved officer open the door so no prints left." The police officer explained before leaving.

Sara placed her kit bag at the door way, and pulled her camera up to her face to begin taking photos as Grissom assessed the scene.

The apartment was small, the bedroom/sitting room was painted blue, with a wooden floor, a bathroom came off from one direction, a kitchen to the other. The only furniture was a double sofa bed, which was set out as a bed, a TV and a wardrobe. On the bed lay the victim, her body was sprawled across the covers, dressed in a purple silk night-dress that had been pushed up to her stomach, her eyes were open, there was blood on the bed clothes, from what looked to be a rape, and possibly a struggle, although there were no signs of a fight on her skin. The woman's hair was shoulder-length, brown, and her skin was pale, although now had a blue-ish tint, marks around her neck suggested cause of death was strangulation, although only post-mortem would confirm that.

Sara pulled on a pair of latex gloves and picked up a wallet from the top of a pile of books, "Rachel Lodge." She raised the driver's licence at Grissom and he nodded in recognition. The wallet still had money in it, ruling out any kind of robbery. Grissom made his way through the rest of the apartment, taking photos himself.

Sara spotted a pile of books on accountancy next to the bed, an empty noodle box on top. Sara felt tears sting her eyes as she stared at the woman that lay in front of her – gotten home from work, showered, chilled out, ordered take-out, caught up on some work… and then raped, and murdered.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered, before photographing the body and the bed. Sara managed to find two blonde hairs on the body, and placed them in evidence envelopes, although that was all she could find in the way of foreign objects, until any possible semen was collected later at least It wasn't long before the coroner arrived and took the body away; Sara opened up her kit bag to start finger-printing.

"No signs of forced entry, only two windows in the apartment, neither big enough for a human, killer must have come through the door." Grissom explained.

"Suggests she knew him, to let him in." Sara finger-printed the front door handle and surrounding area.

"Or someone with a key. Is there any CCTV in the corridor, Sara?" Grissom's voice had softened with her after the silence they'd shared. Maybe he was glad he'd let her come instead of Catherine.

She peered out down the corridor, eyeing the ceiling's length, "No sign of any. Will have to double check with the landlord later." Sara turned to look at Grissom, his mind fixated on the evidence as it spoke to him. They normally broke down their investigation into short comments to each other, both building a picture of the crime together, Sara enjoyed working with Grissom because of this, they seemed to be able to read each others' mind, but challenge each others' perceptions, something she didn't have with any of the other team. He looked up at her, and she averted her eyes back to the door she was printing, hoping not to get caught looking at him. Unless she looked away, he always held her gaze, sending a tingle over her skin at the intensity of it all; at least she felt it that way, maybe he was just looking at her like looked at everyone else, with no idea of the thoughts that went through her mind.

"One noodle box, no one came over for dinner." He noted.

Sara pulled a couple of prints from the door handle onto sticky paper, "Once we've got her prints at post-mortem, I can compare these." She placed them in her bag.

"I've checked the bathroom for blood, there's nothing."

Sara started dusting the other side of the door, "So if the killer had blood on his hands, he didn't wash it off here."

Grissom joined her near the doorway, crouching down and looking through the trash can, "Receipts, food wrappers… nothing with any blood on, we'll take it back to the lab anyway."

Sara placed a few more finger print papers into her kit bag.

"I'll go back to the lab and get all this into Greg to start processing," Grissom bagged the bin and took Sara's evidence. "Come back to the lab in an hour or so, shouldn't take longer than that to process the room. Then make sure you talk to the landlord about the CCTV." He told her.

Sara nodded, and turned her attention back to the apartment, determined to find something that would lead to finding the killer.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for your reviews! I've decided for this fic the POV-ness is going to alternate, as I want to give both characters a chance to speak. I felt in my last fic my fingers were dying to write some of Grissom's thoughts too, and this time I want get both sides of the story, so to speak. So chapter two is Grissom-centric.

Chapter Two

Grissom glanced up from the evidence spread over the large glass table, to check the time on the large clock that hung from one of the walls in the evidence room – it was 11pm. He'd asked Sara to be back at the lab for 9pm and she was yet to show. Pulling out his cell-phone, he dialled her number again, it rang and rang, rang. No answer.

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he started to feel panic rise slightly in his chest. He knew Sara sometimes stayed late at scenes if there was a lot of evidence to collect, but she always answered her phone. Grissom debated going back to the scene, what if something had happened when he'd left?

"What have you got?" Sara voice filled his ears and he turned around to see her enter the room.

"Where were you?" he asked, ignoring her question.

Her smile faded from her lips, and he regretted being so harsh with her. "There was a lot of evidence to collect, the bed sheets took an hour to process on their own."

An apology nearly slid from his lips, but he stopped himself. He changed the subject, "These are my photos from the scene. No sign of struggle anywhere in the apartment. The hairs you pulled from the bed have no follicular tag, so no DNA there, but she was a brunette, so we can assume a blonde." Sara came and stood next to him, he tried to concentrate on the contents of the table, rather than the feeling of her body so close to his.

"These are my photos," Sara spread the photos out over a clear space on the table, "I've dropped the prints off with a lab tech to run through AFIS."

"Possible strangulation, so signs of forced entry into the apartment - the victim let him in, she knew him. Strangulation would suggest a crime of passion. Nothing may come through AFIS if the killer was only interested in one victim, this may be a 'one off'. Did you check with the landlord about the CCTV?"

"He said there isn't any," Sara ran her hand through her hair, before resting one elbow on the desk, studying Grissom's photographs, "Apartment block is so new, he said he hasn't had time to arrange it, and there were insufficient funds during the build."

"It's four years old." He leant down to her level, moving the photos into sections, trying to build a photographic image of the scene. He could feel her soft hair on his forearms, it sent a rush of blood over his body and he shifted slightly before it could reach below his trousers. How he managed to cope being in such close proximity with her on a daily basis was a miracle, he'd tried to put her on decomp-duty for the past few months, as his dreams had become increasingly filled with images of her, he hoped the smell would discourage his thoughts in someway, but she always ended up coming back to work smelling beautiful again.

"I know."

"We need to find something on him to get a warrant for his DNA, and prints."

"He's blonde." Sara turned her head to face him, the smile had returned to her rosy lips.

Grissom raised his eyebrows at her comment, before smiling back. He was glad he'd agreed to let Sara come along on the case instead of Catherine, he expected she would have reacted badly to the scene, not to say she was delicate around crime scenes, much the opposite, but he tried to take care of her, without letting her know that. A single brunette living on her own could have really struck a chord with her, and had done in the past; he hated to see her upset, he hated that he couldn't hold her.

"Where's the body?"

"It's with Al, in autopsy."

"Thanks, Gris." She smiled at him and stood up straight, leaving the room.

He watched as she left, his eyes falling to her ass in spite of himself. Grissom had repeatedly told himself that he was her supervisor, her boss in effect, that nothing could ever happen purely for that reason; he also reminded himself often that he was older than her, and probably quite a dull person to be around for someone so full of life as Sara was, and as much as she might smile at him, or stand close next to him, she couldn't possibly be interested.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for your reviews so far!

Chapter Three

Sara pushed open the doors of the morgue. The room was cold, and always had a faint smell of decomposition, making her nose crinkle up a little, as used to it as she was.

"Sara." Doc Robbins greeted her, smiling.

"Hi, Doc." She headed over to the autopsy table in the middle of the room, her eyes falling to the body in front of her. "What's C.O.D?"

"Traumatic asphyxia, due to compression on the throat," he motioned to the girl's neck, now in the bright lights of the morgue, the finger marks of the killer were clear on her pale skin. Thumbs pressing down on her windpipe, the other fingers round the back of her neck, pressing against the spine.

"Time of death?"

"Judging by the commencing dissipation of rigor mortis, I would say Wednesday evening."

"Any defensive wounds?" Sara looked up at him, and then back down at the body. The girl was very pretty, defined cheek bones, toned muscles, shiny hair. Sara imagined what a smile on the girl's face would have looked like. She would never smile again - someone had taken that away from her forever, taken the life from her body.

"… Sara?" Doc Robbins nudged her, "There are no defensive wounds on her. I've collected an S.O.E.C kit, it was one of the worst I've seen."

"Where's her nightdress?"

"On the side, with the kit." He motioned with his walking stick to the table behind her. "I already dropped off fingerprints with AFIS technician."

Grabbing the bagged nightdress and the rape kit, Sara left the morgue. She quickly made her way back to Greg.

"Hi S—"

"Greg, can you process this ASAP?"

Greg stared at her, and she felt her blood begin to boil as a small smile crept on his lips, "What's the magic word?" he asked.

She put the S.O.E.C kit down on his table, "I don't care what anyone else has, or says, this is your first priority, you got it?" she snapped.

"Sure." He looked rather sheepish at his teasing, but persisted with his questions. "Have you cleared it with Grissom?"

"Of course." She lied, it was her and Grissom's case, so she had no reason to ask him anyway - of course he'd want it to be a priority. "Text me when you're done with the kit."

Heading into the next lab room, she didn't even have to ask Joanna for the prints, she passed them information straight over; obviously she'd heard Sara's snapping at Greg in the adjoining room.

Sara read the paper aloud, "Prints on the door handle – victim. Prints from noodle box – victim."

"Sorry I couldn't be of more help." Joanna smiled lightly.

"The bastard. He must have worn gloves." She let out an exasperated sigh, her phone interrupting her thoughts, and she quickly grabbed it from her pocket – Greg surely couldn't have processed the rape kit that quickly? It was a text from Brass.

_DB, 128 Rosemont Av. Same M.O._

Sara's legs had already started making their way down the corridors of the lab by the time she'd finished reading the message. Walking past the evidence room where Grissom sat, she realized she was still holding the victim's nightdress. She placed it in its polythene bag on the table with the rest of the evidence. "Are you coming?" she asked Grissom.

He nodded, and picking up her evidence collection case on the way, they both climbed into Grissom's car. The car ride was silent, Sara scribbling down evidence notes in her notebook.

Pulling up outside another apartment block, Sara glanced down at the clock on the dashboard – 1am. She followed Grissom as they approached the building's entrance, Brass stood outside.

"I'll show you upstairs." He said, skipping pleasantries.

Sara and Grissom followed him up the staircase to the third floor, to room 345.

"Neither are Murder Central." Grissom glanced at Sara and she nodded. The apartments of the victims were both in the middle of corridors, other apartments either side.

The apartment block they were currently in was a considerable distance from the previous one, Sara guessed somewhere about ten miles apart, and was completely different in décor of the building, and surroundings outside, this one was in a built-up busier area of town, but as Brass pushed open the apartment door, she knew instantly it was the same killer.

The woman's body lay on the bed in much the same position as the previous victim's. T-shirt still on, but any clothing from the bottom half of her body was on the floor. The apartment was small, a studio flat, with a sofa bed, television, some books and not much else. The victim's wallet was left out on top of the television; Sara picked it up with now latex-covered hands.

"Susan Apple."

"He likes to know their names." Grissom made his way into the bathroom of the apartment.

"Wallet is full, not interested in their money, just them." She looked over at the still body on the bed; her heart and soul ached at the sight.

"Police had to break the door in. Landlord is away on holiday until tomorrow so no key access. Neighbour heard screams, called the police, by the time they arrived there was no sign of the killer. Neighbour stayed inside their apartment, so no didn't see anyone leave."

"Any CCTV in the corridors?" Sara asked.

"No CCTV anywhere in the building."

"Can you take a full statement from the neighbour, Brass?" Grissom came out of the bathroom, and went into the kitchen. Brass nodded and left the room.

Sara shone her light over the woman's body, searching for fibres or hairs that the killer may have left behind. Thin, brunette, no defensive wounds. Blood had pooled on the bed below the victim, another rape. The marks around her neck were the same as before. "This is all the same, Grissom."

He came and stood next to her, "I think our murderer has just turned serial."


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks so much for your reviews! Much, much, much appreciated that you're reading.

Chapter Four

Grissom examined the front door handle of the apartment's room. It had been completely busted in by the police, the metal of the handle compacted by the force of the battering arm they'd used to force their way in. Moving to the other side of the door, he dusted it carefully. The killer would have had to have touched the door handle to get out, but there were no prints.

He stood up and turned around, watching Sara as she checked the victim for traces of evidence. She was delicately leaning over the bed, a flashlight in one hand, tweezers in the other. Her hair was tucked behind her ear on one side so she had a clear view of the scene.

"Gris." She spoke up, breaking him from his gaze. "Can you pass me an evidence envelope?"

He pulled a small brown envelope from the evidence kit and held it open as Sara dropped a small piece of plastic inside.

"Latex. Maybe he takes his gloves off to touch them, split when he put them back on." Her voice was almost a whisper and he watched her stare at the victim's open eyes.

He placed the envelope into the top pocket of his CSI vest; maybe this was a little too much for her. "Sara, are you ready for the coroner to check T.O.D?"

"One minute, Gris."

He loved it when she called him Gris, his heart settled back down from its leap around his torso and he let her continue, holding open evidence envelopes, one for a blonde hair, and another for a blue fibre (the victim's clothes were white and pink, and the bed sheets green).

Eventually Sara pulled back from the bed, "Okay. Where's David?"

Within seconds David was by the bed, smiling warmly at Sara, and addressing Grissom as 'sir'; he temperature checked the body. "T.O.D at just after midnight."

"Thanks, David." Sara smiled at him, but Grissom knew it was only a polite gesture, as it didn't reach her eyes like it did when she looked at him. Grissom tried to blink his thoughts away, she didn't smile at him any differently than she did at David, it was all in his mind… his heart.

David and another coroner removed the body from the bed and Grissom watched as Sara let a yawn escape her lips.

"It's 3am, Sara. Do you want to go home and get some sleep?"

"No. I want to stay and process the bed sheets first. You should go." She looked at him; her big brown eyes made him melt inside.

"Are you sure?"

"Sure, I'll only be another hour anyway."

"Okay, I'll drop off the evidence we've collected so far at the lab and see you later."

She nodded.

Without a second thought, he reached out and stroked her arm, his fingers only gently brushed over her bare forearm, enough to take his breath away, enough to make his stomach feel like it was doing back-flips inside his body. What it'd be like to take her in his arms properly was too much for him to even bear thinking about.

She smiled at him. _That_ smile. "Night, Gris."

Unable to form words, he simply smiled and left the apartment, left the building, and climbed into his car. Starting the engine, he flipped the radio on, hoping it'd focus his attention on something, anything but Sara. He needed to shake this, else one day he was going to end up kissing her, feeling those rosy lips against his.

Grissom started to hum along to the classical music that blasted through the car as he drove back to the lab. He felt his body settle back down, his mind turning to the case. Two different women, in no way clearly connected to each other that he knew of, killed by what looked to be the same person from the M.O, only linked by both living alone in apartment blocks and being brunette. It didn't mean anything, how could it be random but the women so similar?

Pulling into the parking lot of the lab, he made his way into the building and over to Greg's desk. "Blonde hair, and possible piece of latex." He handed over the small brown envelopes.

Greg nodded, "I processed the S.O.E.C Sara handed in earlier, there was no semen, no DNA, nothing."

"He wore a condom." Grissom suggested to himself aloud.

"Yup." Greg went back to looking through his microscope.

With evidence swirling round Grissom's mind, he left the lab, and climbing back into his car, he drove home to get a few hours sleep.

* * *

><p>Grissom sipped his take-out Starbucks cup as he signed in to the lab at reception – 9am. He normally made himself a coffee at work, but lately Greg had been filling the pot with Kona coffee beans, which the rest of the team seemed to really like, but to Grissom it tasted like soot. He made his way down the corridors to the evidence room, he could set up his photographs from last night and try and compare murders before taking on new evidence from Albert and Greg.<p>

"Grissom!" Catherine called him from down the corridor.

He spun around to see her, and grinned, making his way over to where she stood. "Hey, Cath. How's your case going?"

"Fine. Look, I got home at midnight last night, got here at 6am to find Sara asleep in the break room. Did she go home last night?"

"I left her at the scene at 3am; she said she was going home soon."

"I think she's been here, Grissom."

"I'll sort it." He replied.

"You wouldn't let Nick or Warrick—"

"I get it, Cath, I'll sort it." He held his hands up defensively; he didn't want Catherine going off on one before his shift had really even begun. Leaving Catherine, he walked into the break room to find Sara asleep on one of the chairs in the corner of the room. Her legs were brought up to her chest, her body resting on one side, books and papers were on the table to the side of her, and in what had been her lap before she curled up.

He crouched down next to her, placing a hand on her leg, he squeezed lightly, not wanting to wake her suddenly. He couldn't help but let a smile reach his lips as she stirred, small sleepy noises escaping her lips.

Her eyes slowly opened and widened as she saw him there.

Grissom passed her his latte, "Here."

She sipped it, slipping her legs down from the chair to let her feet rest on the floor again.

"You know you can't sleep here, Sara, dear. I've told you before."

She pulled the cup away from her lips to smile at him warmly. He couldn't help but smile back, in spite of himself. He should be giving her a warning, as her supervisor.

"I've been looking over the evidence, trying to piece things together, why these two women have been targeted, if they go to the same gym, or dated the same guy. Nothing."

"Look, go and have a shower, grab a sandwich. Meet me in the evidence room in a bit, okay?" He stood up from his crouched position on the floor.

Sara rose from her seat, "I won't be long, but I'm taking your latte."

He grinned at her, and watched her leave the break room, before collecting her papers and going to review the evidence himself.


	5. Chapter 5

As always, thank you so much for your reviews. Here's the next chapter :). Hoping to get another chapter up tomorrow.

Chapter Five

Sara pulled her green t-shirt over her head, her hair drying quickly in the warmth of the CSI shower room. She pulled a hairbrush through her hair, smoothing it out before glancing at herself in the mirror. She looked tired, she was tired. She didn't know exactly how long she'd slept for, but she knew she'd sat down in the break room at 5am.

She'd processed the 2nd victim's bed sheets, pillows and mattress until 4:30am, and then she'd sat, leant up against the wall opposite the bed, taking in the apartment. The smell of Luminol from spraying the apartment's entirety, and the lingering metallic smell of blood filled the air. Sara felt hot tears run down her cheeks as she stared at the bed, which was now down to its bare mattress, the sheets bagged neatly by the door. She'd sat there for what had felt like hours, trying to make some sense of it all, but had eventually wiped her tears from her cheeks and headed back to the lab – her last memory was glancing at the break room's clock as it hit 5am, and then Grissom, he'd woken her, with those kind eyes and his soft hand on her leg. She was grateful he hadn't made a deal of her sleeping at work; he knew how important this case was.

Sliding a thin black leather belt round her jeans, she slipped her feet into her work boots and picked up Grissom's latte which she hadn't quite finished yet. Thankful she'd kept a spare change of clothes at the lab; she threw her old clothes into her locker and locked it, taking a last sip of the hot beverage before throwing it in the trash.

Entering the evidence room, Sara looked around at what she and Grissom had collected from the two scenes. He'd pulled a whiteboard into the room, and passed her a black marker pen as she approached him.

"Let's compare." He said to her, and leant back against the large table as she began to write.

"Both lived alone, in apartment blocks, both in their 30s, both brunette. No signs of entry to either room." Sara spoke aloud as she wrote.

Grissom stopped her, "We can't be sure of that with the 2nd, due to the forced police entry."

She nodded, wiping her last comment from the board, "blonde hairs found at both scenes. No prints from anyone other than victims found at scenes."

"Suggests that not only the killer left no prints, but the women rarely had visitors. Most houses have prints from various people, friends, other family."

Sara wrote down Grissom's comment. Nobody had come over to her apartment since Hank last year, visitors weren't her thing, she could understand if these women perhaps felt the same.

"We need to find out if victim number two was raped and strangled in the same way. And we need to see if anything comes up from the latex sample and the hair I handed in last night."

"I'll take the body. You talk to Greg." Sara hadn't meant her words to come out so direct, but Grissom smiled at her words.

Sara winked at him before making her way down the corridor to the morgue. She cringed at herself as she walked, she'd winked… at Grissom? God, she was making such a fool of herself lately with him. But when he'd touched her arm last night, she'd felt like electricity was running through her skin, it still made her tingle at the thought. Her heart was getting carried away.

"Hi, Al." Sara greeted Albert Robbins as she approached the morgue's table.

"Sara, this is all the same." He slid his glasses from his face. "C.O.D is strangulation, using the hands, bruising is the same. The S.O.E.C kit is with Greg already, I thought you might want to put a rush on it all with it turning serial."

"Thanks, Doc."

"No defensive wounds again, but I did find traces of baby oil on her wrists when I was examining the body."

Sara frowned, how could she have missed that? She'd checked the body from top to toe, twice. "Can you recheck the first victim for the same?"

"Yes. Toxicology results for both women are clean, no alcohol, no drugs."

Sara looked down at the woman's throat, "Maybe he held them down by their throat first, to control them - the bruising isn't just a clean press on the windpipe."

"That's for you to find out."

She nodded and left the morgue, her phone ringing in her jeans' pocket. It was Grissom. "Hi."

"Hair had no follicular tag. Latex is from a glove, a thick glove. No semen from 2nd S.O.E.C kit, he must have worn a condom."

"Are these hairs being planted, Gris? To not have a tag on any that I found. Surely the victims would have pulled the hair rather than it just falling out?"

"It's quite possible, Sara."

She made her way to the break room, her phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder as she poured herself a coffee, "Are you in the evidence room?"

"Yes."

Sara poured Grissom a cup of coffee also, although she knew he didn't like Greg's stuff, it was the only coffee that now existed in the lab, so he'd have to deal. "Strangulation is the same on the 2nd vic., rape of the same aggression, no defensive wounds. And tox. results are both clear."

"We need to tie these two cases together with more than M.O." Grissom explained, and Sara hung up her cell, sliding it back into her pocket and taking their coffees to the evidence room.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for your reviews! Long-ish chapter for you, cause I couldn't stop writing. :D

Chapter Six

"Coffee." Sara placed two coffee cups on the table.

Grissom rose from his crouched position over the photographs on the evidence table. "We're going to need to go back over the sheets and the clothes from the scenes; these photos aren't shining any light on the evidence." He glanced up at Sara, to see her frowning, "What's wrong?"

"Doc Robbins said he found baby oil on the wrists of the second victim." She took a step towards him, closing the space between their bodies.

Grissom felt his pulse quicken. Still frowning, Sara brought her hand up to his throat, and slowly slid her fingers across his skin. He wanted to groan with delight at the contact, but stayed silent, watching her, those lips so close to his.

"If the killer had his hand on her throat, holding her down," her words were quiet, "she'd still have their hands free."

Grissom realized his hands were hanging by his sides, he could easily have pushed her away, and the victims could have defended themselves.

"Even when he went to strangle them, they still would have their hands free." Sara slid another hand around Grissom's throat, moving her palms around to the back of his neck, just her thumbs softly on his windpipe. Her fingers had slid into his hair, their faces just inches apart.

"Sara..." Grissom's voice just came out as a whisper. He was completely lost in her.

"He restrained them." Her eyes were on his throat, something Grissom was glad of, as he felt the tightness around his jeans only increase with her prolonged contact to his body. He was sure the effects of her actions would be more than evident if she were to look down. "With some sort of tape? And then wiped the tape's residue from their wrists with baby oil? Why not just leave the tape? Or the marks?" She took her hands away from Grissom's neck and turned to look at the photos on the table.

His body ached with the sudden loss of her touch, and he turned around to try and diminish the stiffness in his trousers. He stared at the wall, like it was the only thing in the world, a blue wall, no Sara, just a brick wall, wall, wall. The case. "The only injuries these women had were the strangulation and the rape - that was what he wanted. He only bound them to stop them fighting back. He only wanted us to see what he'd done to them, what he'd set out to do to them." Grissom turned around and joined Sara in looking at the photos, but with some distance between them.

"They mustn't even have had time to fight back before he bound their wrists, and then it was too late…" Sara paused, "for fuck's sake, Grissom, we don't even have a suspect." Her words were sharp and she let out an exasperated sigh, her open hands pressing down hard on the table, her head bowed.

"We'll find something, Sara."

Her phone beeped and she pulled it phone her pocket, "Greg has confirmed it's baby oil, and Doc found it on the first victim's wrists too."

"Okay, so that adds to our M.O.. Let's go through the sheets from both scenes, and the clothes." Grissom suggested, he knew Sara had already checked them at the scene, but maybe in the light of the lab, they would find something else.

Sara nodded.

* * *

><p>It got to 3pm before Grissom or Sara looked up from the sheets and clothes carefully lay over the evidence room. They'd locked the evidence room door so as not to be disturbed, and Sara had allowed Grissom to play his Beethoven CD as they processed.<p>

A camera hung around Grissom's neck on its strap as he photographed the dried blood pool from the first victim's sheet, it was all as would be expected given the crime, he couldn't find anything else on it. Not even a bloody finger print.

"Grissom." Sara exclaimed quickly from across the room.

He looked up, "What have you found?"

"Another hair. It's blonde, but it looks like it might have a tag."

He grinned at her, and watched as she placed it into an evidence envelope before moving over her, watching her search the rest of the victim's sweatpants.

"But there's nothing else." As soon as she'd finished her sentence, her stomach growled loudly.

"When was the last time you ate, Sara?" Grissom asked.

"Yesterday sometime."

"Right, we'll get these sheets and clothes re-bagged, get this hair to Greg, and then I'm taking you for food." Grissom wasn't asking this time, he was taking her for dinner, and it wasn't a date… it was his duty as her supervisor. Satisfied with this conclusion within himself, he started to re-bag their evidence, and Sara took the hair to Greg. She joined him by his car in the parking lot ten minutes later.

"Greg's gonna text me when he's looked at the hair," she explained.

Grissom smiled at her softly, and they both climbed into his car. He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. "Where do you want to go to eat?"

"A bar. Burger and beer."

"Okay then." Grissom drove for five minutes or so before pulling into the parking lot of a small bar. "This okay?"

She nodded, "This is great."

Butterflies filled Grissom's stomach as they left the car. Both dressed in every day clothes, no evidence kit, they looked like 'normal' people. He didn't think he and Sara had ever been alone as 'normal' people before. He looked at her, and she smiled at him as they walked over to the bar's entrance.

The building was large but quiet, seating and pool tables were dotted around the middle of the building, and seating lined the walls apart from immediately to the left of the entrance, where a long bar was positioned. There was cheesy rock music playing from a jukebox somewhere, and a couple of guys playing pool over the other side from the bar.

"What would you like to drink?" Grissom asked.

"Just a beer, whatever you see first." Sara replied, looking around the bar.

"You take a seat, I'll bring it over." He smiled at her, and she headed over to some seating in a corner.

Grissom leant on the bar, a barmaid coming over to take his order, "Two pints of Amber Bock, and two burgers please."

"Any cheese or salad?" The barmaid pulled two pints of the beer and placed them on the counter top.

"Yes, please." Grissom couldn't rid himself of his butterflies even with Sara at the other end of the room. He pulled a couple of notes from his pocket and paid the barmaid, taking the beers over to where Sara had chosen to sit.

The seats she'd picked where in a square shape, right in the far corner of the bar, there was a square dark wooden table in front of the seating, and Grissom placed the beers down on the table before sliding into the black leather seating. He looked at her, a little uncomfortable, he had brought her here, and now his mind was blank.

"This is nice." She smiled.

He felt a sense of relief; she wasn't wishing she was somewhere else.

"I got cheese and salad too." His reply was slightly random; he hadn't known what else to say.

"I like cheese and salad." She sipped her beer.

Grissom took a glug of his, needing a little 'Dutch-courage'. They couldn't have been sat more than a foot apart, and his hand that was closest to her was begging to slide over her thigh. Another glug.

Truth be told, Grissom wasn't really a beer drinker, he liked whiskey, old matured whiskey, with ice, but he was driving, and a beer would suffice. They sat in silence for a few seconds, Grissom looking around at the people in the bar. Part of him was a little wary of people from work being there, he didn't want anyone to think anything of 'this'. It'd be around the entire lab in a matter of hours. But as wary as he was of other staff, he knew he'd already made up his mind about his feelings for Sara, he'd decided as he'd sat down next to her, as quickly as that, he couldn't bear it any longer, six years of waiting for the 'right time' was too long for anyone, he just hoped she felt the same way.

Their burgers arrived quickly, and Grissom watched as Sara pushed her knife and fork aside and after a squirt of ketchup to the insides of the bun, she brought the burger to her mouth. He loved the fact she was so… normal. He'd dated women in the past that had been so obsessed with themselves, they'd never seen anything. Sara had seen everything that had passed before her eyes, but still held herself with a beauty and elegance he'd never seen in anyone before.

She glanced up to see him staring at her, and Grissom saw her cheeks redden slightly. He diverted his eyes from hers and repeated her actions, a squirt of ketchup, and no cutlery allowed. They ate their burgers in silence, apart from Grissom ordering another two pints of beer from a passing waitress.

Once they'd cleared their plates, Sara excused herself from the table for a trip to the bathroom and Grissom rested his head against the wall behind him. He had to do something, he'd decided, hadn't he? Even just to ask her what she felt, if she felt anything for him.

"Don't fall asleep, Gris." Sara slid back into the seating area and he raised his head from the wall.

He smiled at her, unsure of where to start with his words. Could he do this? If she didn't feel the same way, she might report him to Ecklie, or the sheriff, he'd be fired, but would Sara do that? They'd known each other for six years. "Sara, I've been thinking about you… a lot."

"About my work?" she took a sip of her beer.

"No. About you." Was she going to make this even more difficult for him?

"What about me?" she asked, but he saw in her eyes that she understood. She was seeing into his soul.

"Sara," he paused, he wanted to take a sip of his beer, but he knew his hands were shaking slightly, and so he kept them flat on the seat. "I've been having feelings for you for quite some time."

She had no question for that comment, but didn't look away from him.

He continued, "I… I would like to deepen our relationship." He wanted to just spit it out, but he didn't want it to seem curt, or crass.

Within seconds, Sara's lips were pressed against his: a gentle, lingering touch to his lips, both hesitating ever so slightly as if to memorize that moment in time, before he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding into her hair, pulling her in. She slid her tongue between his lips, greeting his as she let out a soft moan. One hand now on his chest, her other slid over his thigh. Grissom felt himself harden as her fingers stroked his leg, nearing his want for her.

Moving his lips to her neck, he kissed her skin from her ear down to her shoulder blades. Her fingers finally reached his jean covered cock. His whole body felt as though it might explode with desire for her.

"Gil," she breathed, "let's get out of here."

He didn't say anything, simply taking her hand, and they made their way out of the bar and to his car. The drive to her apartment was in silence, Grissom keeping his hold on her hand throughout. He was thankful he'd remembered her address from the few times he'd given her lifts home in the past. Exiting the car, she pulled her keys from her jeans and unlocked the building's entrance. Once in the lift to her floor, Grissom captured her lips with his, his hands running down over her breasts; a groan escaped his lips as the lift doors pinged open to the sixth floor.

They made their way to apartment 616 and Sara quickly unlocked the door, Grissom closed the door behind them as she turned to face him. He barely had time to take in the details of her flat, except for the fact it smelt like Sara, a fresh strawberry smell that he'd sometimes been lucky enough to catch a hint of when she'd been close to him at work. Now she was in his arms, and he was pushing her backwards down onto the bed, kicking off his shoes as he lay on top of her, his lips on her lips, on her neck. Pulling her t-shirt over her head, his kisses made their way over her shoulders, down to her breasts. She was as beautiful under her clothes as he'd dreamed all those nights, even more so. He quickly rid her of her bra and jeans, before standing up off the bed to take off his own shirt and jeans. Pushing his boxers down his legs, he felt a twinge of shyness as his nakedness in front of Sara, they hadn't turned any lights on in the apartment, but the curtains were pulled back and the streetlights from outside lit the room well enough, enough to see her face – her eyes were fixated on his body, his cock standing upright in front of her, she grinned at him, crawling over the bed to him on all fours, her tongue sliding over his tip lightly, enough for it to send a visible shiver over Grissom's body.

She pulled away, lying back onto her back, "So, are you going to fuck me or not?" just her enticing, soft, teasing tone was enough for him to groan deeply in response.

He watched as she slid her black lace panties down her legs, throwing them on the floor by his feet. Grissom felt as though he were in a dream - that was the only way this could be happening to him. Beautiful Sara Sidle was lying naked in front of him. He didn't need asking twice, kneeling back onto the bed, he kissed her lips hard, his tongue wasting no time in entering her mouth, spreading her long toned legs with his legs. He slid two fingers into her folds, his cock ached with how wet she was, he needed to be inside her. The pace of his tongue against hers began to match the pace of his fingers pumping in and out of her, as she moaned, pressing herself into his movements, needing more of him. He replaced his fingers with his stiff cock and slowly slid himself inside of her hot opening as she adjusted to his size. Her hands made their way to his shoulders, holding on as he thrust into her, their pace was one of need, after six years of tension and passion building, it had all come down to this moment.

Grissom pulled back from his kisses to catch a glimpse of her face, her eyes closed, lips slightly parted as their movements caused moans to escape her mouth; sweat was forming on her skin at the proximity of their bodies in the hot air of the apartment. She looked perfect, and she felt like pure ecstasy. Grissom quickened his pace inside of her as her breath became ragged, hot on his skin, and she met him thrust for thrust as her orgasm overcame her, his name rolling from her lips throatily between loud moans, the grip she had on his shoulders tightening as her body shook with waves of pleasure, the throbbing of her climax around his hard shaft sending him over the edge, he spilled himself inside her hot core.

Collapsing beside her, Grissom shut his eyes as his head span. Her fingers played lazily with the hair on his chest, and he couldn't help but smile. Slipping his arm around her body, he placed a kiss to her temple. "You're amazing, Sara Sidle."

She pushed herself up against the side of his body, resting her head on his chest as her breathing settled, Grissom felt himself fall asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

So sorry for the lack of update over the past couple of days, but here's one now! Hoping to get another up on Monday. Thanks for your reviews.

Chapter Seven

Sara stirred, tossing and turning under the bed covers, her alarm clock was beeping over and over. She opened her eyes and reached out her arm to the clock on her bedside table to slam down the alarm button, but it wasn't up. Her phone.

Jumping out of bed, Sara grabbed at her jeans, pulling her cell phone from the pocket. "Sara Sidle."

"Sara, it's Catherine, where the hell are you? It's 3am, you're no where to be found at the lab, you're still on the clock, and if Grissom hasn't got the balls to tell you you're taking the piss, I will."

Grissom. Sara turned around to see a sleeping Grissom in her bed. Her heart jumped as it all rushed back to her, the hot sex they'd shared for hours, they must have only been asleep an hour when her phone had started ringing. "I'm… I just went home to get changed." Sara lied.

"There's another D.B. Fits your M.O."

Sara was pulling on her clothes as Catherine spoke, "What's the address?"

"Apartment block on Eastfields. Brass is there."

Sara hung up the phone and knelt up on the bed, shaking Grissom gently." Gris, we've got a D.B, we need to go."

He grumbled, doing a complete 180 in the covers, the sheets wrapping around his naked body.

"Grissom. We need to go to work." This time she was firmer and his eyes opened.

"Work?"

"D.B, Catherine called." As she finished her words, Grissom's phone started to ring.

He answered it. "Grissom… I'm out… okay… I'll be there… thanks Catherine." He hung up his phone and slid out from under the bed covers, dressing quickly.

Sara watched him in the reflection of the mirror as she brushed her hair, he was wonderful. She couldn't help but smile a little that Grissom was in her apartment.

"Are you ready, Sara?" he asked.

She nodded, popping a piece of chewing gum in her mouth, she tossed him the rest of the packet and they left her apartment. The elevator trip down to the ground floor was in silence, and they stood a distance apart, his lips were together tightly as he chewed his gum, not kissing her; his hands in his pockets, not on her body.

Getting into Grissom's car, Sara strapped her watch to her wrist. She could still smell a mixture of sex and sweat on herself, and a little of beer, although the alcoholic effects had worn off of her body. She kept her hands in her lap as Grissom drove, and he kept his on the wheel, not hand-on-hand like just a few hours ago as they'd driven back from the bar. As the silence increased, the more uncomfortable Sara became at the idea of bringing up the sex they'd shared, or making any move toward rekindling their closeness.

Shortly they arrived at the scene, Brass was waiting outside. Sara felt like it was some sort of sick déjà-vu, everything was the same. A large apartment block loomed in front of them, blue flashing lights lighting up the dark sky, Brass stood at the doorway of the building.

"I've cleared the scene, it's room 400. Police had to break the door, landlord is away, neighbour called it in," Brass passed the notes he'd taken over to Grissom, before he got back into his own car.

Sara made her way straight into the building and started climbing the stairs alone, hearing Grissom take the lift on the ground floor. The whole situation was a mess in her mind, she couldn't place any of the pieces together in the right order – where they having some sort of secret relationship now? Or was she just a one-night thing? Would Grissom do that to her? Maybe he just needed to get her out of his system. Maybe he just needed to have sex. Maybe she was a disappointment, that he'd changed his mind.

She reached the forth floor the same time the lift opened and Grissom stepped out. They made their way down the corridor in silence, until they reached room 400. There was an officer stood by the door, whom Grissom dismissed upon their arrival. Sara slid her latex gloves onto her hands and pushed open the apartment door, the lock/handle had been forced in the same way due to the police breaking in. The apartment was much like the others, small, lots of personal possessions, small windows, in the middle of the corridor. Sara glanced outside of the apartment, no evident CCTV.

The victim lay on the bed, completely naked, a bath towel to her side, her hair was still wet – she must have just gotten out of the shower. This would be the one, Sara decided, the last woman this sicko would get his hands on. She pulled open her kit by the side of the bed and grabbed a pair of tweezers, she was going to find the piece of evidence that cracked this case, it was here somewhere. Searching the woman's pale skin for marks to photograph, or fibres to collect, Sara searched every inch of her body. The wrists had an oily substance on, like the others, and there was evident rape again. Photographing the bruises to the woman's neck, she could make out similar hand marks. It was like a bad nightmare.

David arrived to conclude T.O.D and Sara made her way into the bathroom, if the woman had been in here, she may have been surprised here, and taken to the bed? She was still so unsure of the way any of this had happened. Shining a torch over the tiles of the shower, she found nothing, but decided to check the walls for Luminol before moving to the sinks. There was no blood on the walls, or in the sinks. Sara sighed, she was finding nothing.

Grissom occasionally crossed her path as she dusted for fingerprints along surfaces, each time his body neared hers, she had flashbacks of him being inside of her, feeling his hands on her body. She'd slept with her supervisor, and if that wasn't unprofessional enough, it was on shift-time. How could she be so quick to sleep with him? How could he leave her so in the dark as to where they stood?

She turned around from dusting the bathroom door to look at the woman lying on the bed, how scared she must have been, how she must have fought for her life. Grissom would have to come to her himself, if she was important to him at all. This woman, and the other two women that had been murdered, were Sara's priority, she was their voice, and it was her responsibility to find the killer.


	8. Chapter 8

Hello! Just a short chapter here, hoping to update again on Wednesday, but hopefully earlier if I can. Thank you for your reviews so far.

Chapter Eight

Grissom pulled his camera strap over his head, placing his camera on his closed evidence kit. He sighed as he looked around the room; it wasn't saying anything to him anymore. The body had been taken away for the post mortem examination, evidence had been bagged and was by the door, he and Sara had been there hours processing the room. He watched as Sara carefully folded the bedding into separate bags, searching it again as she folded.

The time they'd shared together in her apartment had been… amazing. He still couldn't believe it had happened. He couldn't believe she felt the same way, but now they were faced with an all together different problem – what do now. He knew he should say something, but what? 'the sex was great', 'I love you', 'I'll call you'? Nothing seemed appropriate, so he had said nothing. And what to do? Hold her hand? At what point after sleeping with a co-worker did he need to become her supervisor again? He'd spoken to Catherine on the phone as he'd lay naked in Sara's bed. His heart had decided all of his actions in the past hours, and now his head was in crisis. And so Grissom had decided to keep himself at a distance from Sara in all respects, until his head and heart stopped battling each other for control, and he would be able to make a decision as to what to do next.

Her forehead creased with concentration as she ran her torch over the sheets slowly, and she stayed silent. She had barely spoken to him since they'd left her apartment, but truth be told, he'd barely said anything either. He hoped to God that she didn't think bad of him for his silence, he didn't want to do the wrong thing and hurt her, not after they'd finally confessed their feelings for each other, to an extent, Grissom knew it went deeper than attraction, or a crush. He had been in love with her for years, the moment he'd set eyes on her his heart had been captured.

"I'm going to go back to the lab, Sara." He spoke up; he couldn't bear watching her anymore, being so uncertain of himself, but feeling so passionately towards her. He had to get some air.

"Mhm." She didn't even take her eyes from the sheets to watch him leave.

The drive to the lab was a quick one, at 7am, the early morning rush was about to hit. Grissom stopped for a coffee on the way, and arrived at the lab. He knew he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, he hoped no one else would notice, but Catherine would surely be on his back about not being in the lab earlier.

A yawn escaped Grissom's lips as he made his way to his office, only to be cut short by Catherine, her hands on her hips.

"Where were you?" she asked.

"I was at the crime scene." He replied, knowing that that was not the answer she was looking for.

"Before that. I searched the lab for you and you were nowhere."

"I was out."

"Where?"

"Are you my mother now?"

"No, but if the sheriff had come looking for you, and you weren't here or at a crime scene but still on shift, he'd go nuts. You're meant to be the shift supervisor; you can't just go wandering off. You know Sara takes after you, she was missing as well."

"Was she?" he tried to feign surprise.

"Asleep in the break room this morning and now not even here. You're going to have to sort it, Gil."

"Why don't you do your job, Catherine, and I'll do mine? Okay." Grissom replied sharply before pushing past her into his office. He shut the door behind him, before brining his hands up to his forehead, massaging his temples to try and rid himself of his on-setting migraine.

He wished he could tell her, Catherine knew that Grissom was 'besotted' with Sara, after his incident with the flower-sending, he'd told her everything, but she'd warned him of what would happen if he'd pursued the idea, and he'd agreed not to. She would lose even more respect for him as her supervisor, and as a friend, if he told her he'd slept with Sara. In the mood she was currently in, he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd reported him to Ecklie.

He checked his watch again; it was now 7:30am. His migraine felt like it was pouring into skull and Grissom knew the only option now was to go home and sleep it off. He opened his office door and made his way back down the corridor, tossing his un-drunk latte into the trash. He got back into his car and drove home.


	9. Chapter 9

Your reviews are fantastic, thank you. This is a bit of a long one, hopefully another update on Friday.

Chapter Nine

It was 11am before Sara got back to the lab, having called for an officer to bring her back; she held her evidence bags tightly in her hands as she made her way towards the DNA lab.

"Hey, Sara. Wow, you look tired." Greg looked up from his microscope as she entered the room.

"I want these processed ASAP." She dismissed his comment. "You haven't text me about the hair I handed you yesterday."

"I've only just had a chance to look at it." He replied.

"Some psycho is out killing women every day, and you think Catherine's drug-overdose is more important?" she snapped.

"It came in first." Greg looked a little wary of her.

Sara brought her hand up to her forehead, she was tired, it was making her dizzy, she couldn't remember if she'd even eaten or drunk anything since yesterday evening.

"You look ill, Sara."

"Just give me the results."

"Hair did have a tag, I ran it through DNA, nothing came through. Give me a sample I can compare it to."

"Run these through for me, Greg." She placed several evidence bags on his table. Although she hadn't found anything ground breaking, there were the blonde hairs again that could be compared to the others in at least the genetic make-up, and a few red fibres that didn't match the scene.

"Sure. The blue fibre you found on the second victim, it's 100% cotton." He looked at her concerned.

"That could be anything." Sara sighed.

"Sara, are you-"

"I'm fine." She cut Greg off, and made her way to the break room for coffee. Pouring herself a cup of the hot liquid, she glugged half of it, hoping it the caffeine would make its way through her body quickly. Filling up the mug again, she went to the evidence room Grissom and she had reserved. She locked the door behind her, taking a marker pen to the whiteboard she had previously written on, she started to try and piece things together.

_Victim one – landlord present, neighbour didn't hear anything, but called police. Body found late._

_Victim two – landlord away, neighbour heard incident._

_Victim three – landlord away, neighbour heard incident._

Victim one was screaming out at her, it was completely different to the other two. Unless the neighbour had a personal connection to the victim, why would they be bothered about quietness from her? Why would they notice she hadn't been to work? Or knock on her door?

Sara pulled Brass' notes from his talk with the neighbour – Mark Harvey. No personal connection to the victim, was simply 'concerned' over quietness coming from next door. But Sara remembered, the victim only had a television in her apartment, no music system – how much noise would she have had to have made on a regular basis for him to notice a lack of? He was registered as unemployed, maybe he just listened to the movements of the apartments around him. It seemed suspicious and unsettled Sara. Taking his file and her coffee, she went into the empty room next door to a computer to run a background check on him.

The computer quickly kicked out a result – one restraining order, placed four years ago by a woman called Nicola Jacobs. Hitting Brass' number on speed dial on her cell, Sara placed the phone to her ear.

"Brass, I think I've got something here. The guy you interviewed from the first apartment block, there's a restraining order out against him. I want to get him in for another interview, it doesn't add up."

"Well we can ask, but we can't force him, there's no evidence to place him at the scene, is there?"

"No, but ask. Brass, what's his hair colour?"

"He's a blonde, why?"

"Just let me know when he's in."

"Okay."

Sara hung up her phone and printed out her results from the computer before going back into the evidence room to tack it up on the board. She sat back on the table and stared at what was before her. If this was the guy, if he would give a voluntary DNA sample, possibly self-assured that he'd left no evidence, it could be compared to the hair sample left on the third victim, it'd be enough for a warrant to search his apartment, and then she'd be almost there in solving the case. Killers were sloppy when it came to their own living space, most liked to surround themselves with their 'weapons' or items they may have taken from the scenes, if she could find something incriminating in his apartment, he could be charged and it'd all be over.

A knock on the door startled Sara from her thoughts, and she spun around to see Nick at the glass. He waved at her, and she slid off the table to open the door, she let him in.

"Hey, Sara. I got you some breakfast." He held up a wrapped food item and passed it to her.

"It's just a breakfast muffin from the diner across the road, but I thought you might be hungry." He smiled at her.

"Thanks, Nick." Appreciative of the food, she unwrapped it and took a bite.

"So, how's the case going?"

"Got Brass chasing one of the neighbours, I think he's the guy I'm looking for."

"I?"

She nodded.

"I thought Grissom was working this one with you as well?"

"Sorry, _we_." She corrected herself, but only to satisfy Nick. With Grissom AWOL, she considered him uninvolved, and with the tension that had settled between them, she was thankful he wasn't there.

He took a sip of his coffee, "Are you sure you're okay? You've been here more than any of us since you took this case."

"This case is more important than yours." She hadn't meant to be so blunt, but she felt it was true. Of course she couldn't go home. She wasn't going to let anything distract her now.

"Yours may be a multiple, but every case is important, Sara." His reply was soft, he sounded a little hurt.

"Sorry, Nick." She smiled at him apologetically, but her smile disappeared as quickly as it came.

"No harm done. Do you want me to give you a hand? Catherine's sorta gotta it covered on my case, I've got some free time on my hands."

Sara shook her head, finishing her muffin, "I've got all my information in my head, it's easier to sort it out in there." She tapped her temple with her finger, throwing her muffin wrapper in the trash. Truth was, she felt as though she could work quicker on her own, with Nick there she'd need to explain it all to him.

"Just call if you need anything." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before leaving the room.

Sara turned to look back at her whiteboard, just as her phone beeped. It was Brass.

_Got the guy. In interrogation room three. See you there._

* * *

><p>Pulling her chair back from the table, it screeched across the floor, breaking the silence that had filled the room. Mark Harvey was staring at her, a cold stare that made her skin crawl. She sat down opposite him, across the table. She placed the photos of Rachel Lodge, his neighbour, murdered on her bed.<p>

"This is your neighbour." Sara spoke slowly, watching Mark's reaction.

He was a tall, well-built man, with spiky blonde hair. He wore jeans and a black t-shirt, and sat with his arms crossed as he leant back in his seat. "Yes, that's her."

"What was your relationship with the victim?"

"I've already been interviewed, I've answered all these questions before."

"Answer them again."

"We were neighbours. We said hello if we passed in the corridor, that's it."

"But you noticed that she hadn't been to work for two days."

"I don't have a job… I notice things."

"But you didn't hear her being brutally raped and then killed?"

"I must have been out."

"Do you have an alibi for Wednesday night?"

"I went out alone."

"Where?"

"For a walk."

"Where?"

"Does it matter?"

"Just answer the question." Sara was getting tired of playing games.

"Just around the park near the complex."

"Did you see anyone enter or leave the building that night?"

"No."

This was going nowhere. Sara glanced at the one-way glass to the side of the room, she knew Brass was watching. She'd insisted on interviewing this guy alone and Brass had protested, but Sara had stood her ground and he'd given in. She was starting to wish she hadn't bothered getting this guy in, he wasn't co-operating, and she had nothing to hold him on.

"Can I go yet?" he asked, the same cold stare fixed on her.

"Would you give a voluntary DNA swab to prove your innocence?"

"No."

"Where were you last night?"

"I was in my apartment."

"Do you have an alibi?"

"No."

"Again? Not spend much time with anyone?"

"What's it to you?" his tone was turning sharper with her.

"Who is Nicola Jacobs?" Sara asked, but she already knew, Brass had pulled the file for her before she went into the interrogation room.

"My ex-girlfriend."

"She has a restraining order against you."

"I was taking care of her."

"She dumped you."

"She needed someone to watch out for her."

"You followed her."

"I was taking care of her." He repeated.

"She didn't want you to. Did Rachel not want you to either? So you killed her?"

"I didn't kill her!" he exclaimed, his fists banging on the metal table between them.

"Do you have an anger problem?" Sara asked calmly.

"No, I just have a problem with stupid bitches like you." He spat, rising from his seat.

Sara pulled back slightly at his quick movements, but he was out of the interrogation room door before she knew it. She sat in her seat for a few seconds before leaving the room herself, heading down the corridor to the bathroom.

Her stomach churned as she locked the bathroom door and she dropped to the toilet bowl, her knees hitting the tiled floor hard. She gagged once before bringing up the contents of her stomach into the bowl. Her stomach burned, as did her throat, with the little amount she'd brought up, and she sat back against the locked door. She was back to square one, her one suspect had left - with no evidence against him she had no reason to hold him there. The case was at a dead end, and she was playing the waiting game. Waiting for another woman to die.


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you so much for your reviews so far.

Chapter Ten

Grissom signed into the reception book, logging his time onto shift – 6pm. He'd slept for eight hours straight, which he was surprised about, normally being such a light sleeper, but the past few days had exhausted him, physically and emotionally. He'd dreamt about Sara, but it wasn't a fantasy this time, he had simply remembered how wonderful she had been when they had been together. But he had been pained to wake without her, and after several cups of coffee and slices of toast, he'd come into work.

He passed Catherine in the corridor, but she had blanked him, and he felt slightly relieved. He didn't want to argue, or have any conflict, he just wanted to do his job, and sort things out with Sara. With sleep, had come clarity, and he knew that he needed to talk to Sara, explain the situation they were now in – he wanted to be with her, desperately, whether they made that public in the lab would have to be a decision they made together, but he couldn't live without her beside him now. He had to tell her he'd fallen in love with her, and he needed to apologize for his coldness earlier.

Spotting Sara in the evidence room, he made his way in and she turned to look as the door opened. He smiled at her warmly, and she smiled back.

"How's it going?" He asked.

She had victim no.3's towel spread out on the table, with a flashlight attached to an orange plastic shield in her hand, she was searching for traces of semen or blood, or anything. "I interviewed the neighbor from victim one, but came up blank."

"Did you not think to call me?" Grissom felt a little hurt that she'd gone on without him, not only the fact he was her supervisor, but because they were working this together, weren't they?

"You weren't here."

Her response didn't suffice, but he left it drop. "Anything else?"

"Blue fiber from vic. two was cotton, could be anything. Red fiber from vic. three was also cotton."

"Maybe whatever the killer was wearing at the time. If that's the case, we could rule out someone in a uniform, as the fibers were different colors."

Sara smiled at him, and Grissom took the chance to look at her properly. She looked pale, dark circles under her eyes. She hadn't changed her clothes for days. Concern filled Grissom's body as he watched her, holding herself up with one hand leant on the table. She looked as though she may break on the spot.

"I went back to the first scene; I interviewed the neighbor on the other side. Another male, his name was Frank, he said he works nights, and I checked his alibi with his work, it all checks out."

"You went back to a scene without my permission?" Grissom frowned.

She stared at him, silent.

"Did you take Brass or an officer with you?"

"No. It was just an informal enquiry, there was no reason to suspect him, I just wanted to see if he had heard anything."

"When we have no suspects, Sara, everyone is a damn suspect!" Grissom exclaimed, "Do you have any idea what kind of danger you put yourself in?"

"I can handle myself, Grissom." She replied sharply.

"It's nothing to do with you being able to 'handle yourself', you could have put yourself in direct contact with the killer, and without anyone there…"

"I have a gun."

"This man has over-powered three women, without them even getting a punch in, Sara; do you really think that a gun would have helped when he had your hands around your throat?"

"You're being ridiculous, Grissom."

"I'm being ridiculous?" he asked, incredulous. "You're the one that's become obsessed. You look fucking dreadful; you haven't been home for days."

"Actually I have been home. Do you remember? When we went back to my apartment and had sex? You act like it never happened! What was it, Grissom? Was a just a quick fuck you fancied as a one-off? Did it mean _anything_to you?" Sara was becoming louder with every word and Grissom turned around to the corridor to see if anyone may have walked past and heard her shouting. "Oh, yeah, don't worry about me, just making sure no one knows what kind of man you are. Do you do this with anyone else?"

"I think you should go home, Sara." Grissom lowered his voice, hoping to calm her.

"Why should I leave my case?" she spat.

"Because you're not only putting yourself in danger, your behavior is an embarrassment to the lab!"

"Oh, and yours isn't?" She pushed past him roughly, leaving the evidence room.

Grissom watched as she shakily made her way down the corridor and out of the building. He ran his fingers through his hair, turning his attention to the whiteboard - Sara's writing on it had become a jumble of scribbles, words overlapping each other; he could barely make out what was written. He knew he couldn't take this case alone, it was too much. Leaving the evidence room, he went in search of Catherine.

Finding her in the break room, her hands clasping a cup of tea as she watched the television in a corner of the room, Grissom went and sat down next to her. "I need your help." He said.

She turned to look at him, confused. "I thought you had the wonderful Sara Sidle."

"She's off the case." He replied.

"Why?"

"She needed to go home." Grissom hoped Catherine would leave his explanation as that, and she did, rising from her seat. They both made their way to the evidence room as Grissom explained the case so far.

* * *

><p>Four hours later Nick and Warrick had joined Grissom and Catherine in the evidence room. Grissom had brought in another whiteboard, so as not to ruin Sara's, and Nick was writing on it as ideas were shared between the team. Catherine had explained to Nick and Warrick that Sara had gone home sick, which was a relief for Grissom not to have to explain, or rather lie, but he knew he'd have to tell Catherine everything sooner or later.<p>

"We've ruled out neighbors from victim one?" Nick asked.

"Not necessarily Mark Harvey, he doesn't have a concrete alibi for any of the murders, and Brass said he seemed as though he may have a screw loose."

Nick wrote Mark Harvey on the whiteboard, "Can we think of anyone else?"

"Apart from the M.O these women have absolutely nothing in common with each other." Catherine explained, sitting at the table, the case files on her knee.

Grissom stared into his cup of tea - he hated tea, but Catherine had told him it would make him feel better. He didn't think he could feel much worse. He was angry with Sara for putting herself in danger, he was angry at himself for not being there for her, he felt regretful that things had turned out this way between them, he could barely think about the case.

"Grissom?" Nick turned from the whiteboard, marker pen in his hand, up against the board, ready to write. "Any thoughts?"

Grissom looked up, but it was like he wasn't really there, he couldn't make a mental connection with any of it.

"I think you need to go home, Gil." Catherine placed her hand on his shoulder with one hand, the other hand taking the cup of tea from his grasp.

He nodded silently, but looked at her concerned, would they be able to work on the case without him or Sara there?

"We can manage; we've got all yours notes, all your photos. I think we're going to focus on this Mark Harvey guy, see if he'll come in for questioning again. Maybe with someone level-headed interviewing him, we'll get something from him."

Grissom nodded again. He hated that he was leaving them to it, but he needed to be at home, watching rubbish television, or reading a novel - something to rid Sara from his mind. After signing out of shift, he made his way out into the parking lot, and slid the car key into the lock. Starting the engine, Grissom felt tears sting his eyes. He had only ever wanted to hold her, kiss her, make her safe, make her happy - he'd never meant to hurt her. He blinked his tears away, and taking a deep breath, he drove home.


	11. Chapter 11

Your reviews are wonderful, I enjoy reading them so much, I'm glad you're reading this fic! A short chapter tonight, but got a long one coming up.

Chapter Eleven

Sara couldn't even remember driving home, or taking the lift up to her floor, or entering her apartment, but here she was, stood in her bathroom after having had a shower. She stared at herself in the mirror, her hair dried in the steam quickly. With a towel wrapped around her body, Sara made her way into her bedroom/living space.

Opening the draw of her dresser, she selected her favorite black jogging pants, they were the comfiest thing she owned, and pulled them over her legs. Her whole body ached from lack of sleep, her chest and throat still sore from vomiting earlier. She matched it with a grey t-shirt, and chucking her towel back into the bathroom, headed over to the kitchen, opening the fridge and popping the cap off a bottle of beer. The coldness of it made her shiver as she glugged it heavily. She wanted to go to sleep, but her body was still on high-alert.

She wanted to sob, to rid her body of all the upset she felt, but exhaustion over-ruled it, and she sat down on her bed, flicking on the TV. It was the news – talking about her case. Her case. She changed the channel, some crap soap opera, it'd do.

She took another glug from the beer bottle, leaning back against the pillows. She could still smell Grissom on her sheets, it made her heart ache with loss at their relationship, a relationship that had never really had a chance, how could it have ever done given their situation?

She looked around her apartment. It was tiny, but being a CSI3 didn't pay incredibly well, and she was saving. She wanted to put a deposit down on a house further out of town, lead a quieter life when she was away from work. Her apartment was cluttered, overfilled with books about forensics, the bathroom was just about big enough for one person to stand in, the kitchen was so small the drawers could only just open in the space between surfaces, the traffic outside was noisy, the streets lights were harsh through the curtains, and the apartment directly above partied every night. The low bass shook her ceiling, the sound of people jumping up and down added to the thudding.

Upping the volume on the television, Sara finished her beer. She wondered what was happening at the lab, if Grissom was working alone or if he'd asked Catherine to help, she guessed the latter, it was a big case. Sara knew that even though he'd been involved, she'd done most of the work, putting together ideas, building a profile of the killer, she resented him for taking her off the case when she'd devoted so much time to it. She wondered if he'd call her, check up on her maybe? No, that was asking too much of him. She'd wait a couple of days, and then go back, new cases came up all the time, he could put her on something minor if he still had an issue with her, although she knew if it came to that, she'd resent him even more.

Sliding off the bed, she made her way to the fridge for another beer. Sitting back down on her bed with a fresh beer, she made herself a little more comfortable. She'd spent four years in this apartment, quite a few nights shared with Hank when they'd dated, but nothing since then, until Grissom, now it felt lonely. It didn't feel right without him.

Sara sighed, her head hurt but she couldn't bear to turn off the television and be plunged the apartment into silence, apart from the upstairs party, reminding her that there were people who had people. She wasn't one of those people.

A knock on her apartment door startled her from her thoughts. Sliding off of her bed, she half wished it was Grissom at the door, and half wished it wasn't - she didn't want to see him, at the thought of having another argument, but she so wanted him to take her in his arms. She opened the door, only to have a pair of hands grab at her, and push her backwards into her apartment, locking the door behind them.


	12. Chapter 12

Here's the next chapter! Thanks for your reviews as always.

Chapter Twelve

Grissom had tried watching television, reading a book, going to sleep, nothing was working. He knew Sara was just a fifteen minute drive away, he could go over there, sort this all out, make sure she was okay. He sat on his sofa, staring at his clasped hands, he had his coat on, he couldn't remember when he'd put it on. He was ready to leave his apartment, to go to her, but he didn't move, he sat there, and debated his actions. He knew that one of his major personality flaws, he'd been told several times by Catherine that he did too much thinking and not enough doing, but he felt a need to think things over, not making any on-the-spot decisions, because generally they were regrettable decisions, but where was that frame of mind getting him? Maybe Catherine was right, maybe he did need to do more doing. Was he letting his life pass him by?

Standing up to his feet, he turned to face his front door, just as his cell rang. "Grissom." He answered it.

"Grissom. It's Brass. You need to come to Desert Springs hospital."

"Why? What's happened?"

"It's Sara. Come as quick as you can."

Grissom felt his stomach drop, his heart sink, dread fill every inch of his body. Pocketing his phone, he left his apartment in a flash and was driving to the hospital within minutes. Reaching the hospital parking lot, he swung the car into a space and jumped out, spotting Brass outside waiting for him. "What's happened? Where is she?"

"Grissom, you need to calm down." Brass told him, they entered the hospital building, down the long white corridors, bustling with doctors, nurses and people being wheeled around on their beds.

"Don't tell me to calm down, just tell me what's going on!" Grissom pleaded.

"Sara's been attacked in her apartment. I went over to check on her when I heard you'd sent her home, there was no answer, so I had PD break down the door, and we found her."

"Not like the others?"

"She's still alive, Grissom."

They reached the end of the corridor, Catherine, Nick and Warrick sat outside double doors leading into intensive care. They all rose when Grissom and Brass approached. Catherine engulfed Grissom in a hug, but he barely felt it, he was numb.

"I want to see her." He said.

"She's being taken care of, Grissom." Nick tried to offer comforting words, but Grissom didn't care for comfort.

"We found her unconscious, she hadn't regained consciousness by the time we got her here, but she had a pulse." Brass laid the facts out bare.

Grissom felt his knees give way and Brass grasped him, helping him to one of the seats. "What happened?" he whispered.

"We don't know. It looks as though it was the same M.O as the other women, but he left her still alive." Warrick explained.

"Maybe not intentionally," Catherine spoke, taking a seat next to Grissom, "maybe he thought he'd killed her."

"We need to get some investigators down there, Grissom. I can send another state's if you'd prefer. I've got California on stand by."

Grissom shook his head, "I want my team on this. We'll all cover it."

Brass nodded, and pulling out his cell phone, he took a few steps away from the team to make a call.

"Warrick and I will go," Catherine rubbed Grissom's back, "we'll collect any immediate evidence, get it processed ASAP. Once they've stabilised Sara, we can collect any evidence that may be on her body."

"I'll sort that out."Nick added.

Catherine and Warrick rose from their seats and left the hospital.

Grissom stared at the double doors of the intensive care unit. He prayed to see Sara come through them, somehow to say she was okay, that he could take her home. What was happening in there?

Brass took a seat down next to him, passing him a coffee, "she'll be okay, Grissom."

Grissom took the coffee, but said nothing. Brass was as much in the dark over Sara as he was.

* * *

><p>An hour passed, Grissom's heart jumping at the sight of any doctor or nurse leaving the unit. Brass had left his side about ten minutes ago, leaving only him and Nick. Nick stayed silent, to Grissom's relief, he didn't want to have a conversation, although Grissom glanced up at him several times to check on him – Nick's face was as white as a ghost, his hands shoved tightly in his trouser pockets, his eyes were fixated on the blank wall ahead of him, occasionally tears would form in his eyes but then disappear again.<p>

Grissom looked down at his coffee, he hadn't drunk a drop, he didn't want to, chucking it into a nearby bin, he rose from his seat and took the seat next to Nick, unable to watch his friend in so much distress. The minute he took the chair, Nick burst into tears. Grissom pulled him into a hug, and let him cry against him.

After a few minutes, Nick's tears subsided and he pulled away, taking a sip of his water bottle. Grissom remained silent, but watched as Brass approached, coming down the corridor.

He reached Grissom and stood in front of him. "Stand up, Grissom."

Grissom looked up at him, frowning a little at Brass' professional tone. What was going on?

"Grissom, stand up."

He rose from his seat, standing in front of Brass. He watched as Brass pulled a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket, and he held Grissom's hands up to clip them around his wrists. "What are you doing?"

Nick was now on his feet, watching two officers coming down the corridor to join them.

"Gilbert Grissom, I'm arresting you on the suspicion of attempted murder of Sara Sidle. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in the court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"

Grissom barely heard the last of Brass' words to him, he knew Nick was shouting, but everything felt as though it was spinning. The two police officers were either side of him; Brass was walking him back down the halls of the hospital.

"Grissom, do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?" Brass repeated.

"Yes." He replied. Outside of the hospital was a police car, one of the officers placed their hand on Grissom head and ducked him into the back of the car. Brass and the other officer got into the front, and the next thing Grissom heard was the siren of the car as it drove to the station.


	13. Chapter 13

As Sara's condition is unknown, we're staying with Grissom for another chapter. Thanks for your reviews, I love reading them.

Chapter Thirteen

An officer pulled Grissom's chair back for him to sit at the table. Grissom took the seat, albeit nervously, Brass and Catherine sitting opposite, staring at him. He was about to be interviewed by his friends, people he regarded as family, over the attempted murder of the woman he'd fallen in love with. The silence was thick, Grissom knew he was sweating, shaking, he still couldn't believe this was happening. "What's happened to Sara?" he asked, the only thing he really cared about.

"When did you last see Sara Sidle?" Catherine asked, her eyes had fallen to her papers on the table; her voice had a slight shake to it.

"Here, at the lab, at about 6pm." Grissom replied. "We were in the evidence room we had for the case."

"Can you tell us what happened?" Brass asked, his eyes met Grissom's directly, coldly.

"Sara had been to interview someone on her own, the neighbour of victim number one - the other neighbour. We had an argument that she'd put herself in danger, she looked ill, I sent her home. I took her off the case, I asked Catherine to assist. Then when Nick and Warrick came onto the case, Catherine sent me home to get some rest."

"Did you visit Miss Sidle once Miss Willows had told you to go home?" Brass asked.

"No."

"We found your semen on the bed sheets at Miss Sidle's apartment. An S.O.E.C kit is pending, but would you care to explain?" Catherine kept her eyes down.

"Why are you running an S.O.E.C on Sara? What's happened to her?" Grissom felt panic in his chest, he wanted with every inch of his soul to be by her side.

"Can you explain your semen at the crime scene?" Brass pushed.

"Sara and I had sex a couple of days ago." As soon as he said it he saw Catherine's eyes rise from her papers. She stared at him, hurt, deceived, a friend lost.

"Grissom, do you realize sleeping with a member of your team would make you subject to disciplinary action?" Brass was writing on his papers as he spoke.

"Yes. I was aware of that."

"When exactly did you and Miss Sidle sleep together?"

"Wednesday night. She was hungry, hadn't eaten for a while, so we went for something to eat..." Grissom trailed off, he didn't want to be explaining himself, he wanted to know what was happening with Sara.

"Where did you go to eat?" Brass asked.

"A bar, near here, but I don't know the name of it... We had burgers, and then we went back to her apartment."

"On Wednesday night I have you both as being signed on shift, all night." Brass slid the sign-in book over to Grissom.

Grissom didn't bother to read it, he knew what he'd done, what they'd done. He also knew Catherine had just realized why she couldn't get through to either of them that night on their cell phones.

"You lied to me." Tears filled her eyes, but Grissom resisted the urge to comfort her, he had lied to her. "When I tried to ring you both and neither answered, you were having sex? And then when I did get through to you both, separately, you lied about where you were! After everything, when you bought Sara those flowers and we spent all night talking about how you weren't going to do anything. I thought we were friends, I thought you would have come to me about this, Gil. Look what you've gotten yourself into!" Catherine rose from her seat.

"I didn't hurt Sara!" Grissom replied, angry that she could be so selfish as to think this had anything to do with her.

"You may not have, but all the evidence we've collected so far seems to suggest so - your semen in her bed, your prints all over her apartment-"

"Catherine." Brass tried to calm her, placing a hand on her arm, but she pulled away.

"Look what you've done, Grissom! The DA could suggest that if Sara was threatening to go to Ecklie about this, it even provides motive!"

Brass rose from his seat and showed Catherine out of the interrogation room. Grissom took a breath, resting his elbows on the table, his hands holding up his head. He listened as Brass re-entered the room and took his seat again.

"Do you have any alibis for the murders?"

Grissom thought back - T.O.D victim one, he'd been at home, after doing a double at the lab. Victim two, he'd been in the lab, in the evidence room, but on his own. Victim three, he'd been with Sara, but she was most probably in no state to back that up, and if she'd been raped, his semen could be linked to that. Victim four, Sara, Catherine had sent him home to get some sleep. "I was in the lab when the second occurred-"

"But it seems you have a tendency to leave the lab when you wish."

"The third, only Sara, when we slept together."

"That is of course if you're telling the truth about Wednesday night. Unless Miss Sidle can provide your alibi on that night, you're looking at being charged with the murder of three, and attempted of Miss Sidle."

"There's not enough evidence to charge me with any of it."

Brass raised his eyebrows at him, "I'm passing this case over to Ecklie's team. For now, you can wait in a cell."

Grissom was the led to one of the cells of the building. He was thankful it was a private one, but that was all he could be thankful for, as he sat on the hard bed and sobs shook his body.

Half an hour later, Grissom was laying on the bed, his body had reached an unprecedented level of numbness. He knew his body was freezing cold, he could see the goose-bumps on his arms, but he couldn't feel any of it. He knew the bed was hard, but he couldn't feel that either. His eyes had once been sore from crying, but he felt nothing. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Sara. Beautiful Sara, with that smile, and how she'd looked at him with those big brown eyes. His thoughts were broken by the sound of the cell door being unlocked. He opened his eyes to see Catherine, and he sat up, watching her as she came and sat down next to him on the bed.

"You shouldn't be in here." he said.

"I know." she looked at him; her face was tear-stained.

"What's happened?"

"Grissom," she took his hand and his whole body churned like he was about to be sick, something had happened to Sara. "Gil, Sara is in a coma. She was asphyxiated for such a length of time, she lost consciousness, and her brain was without oxygen for such an extended period of time that she slipped into a coma. The doctors say that the longer she is in a coma the more chance there is that she won't wake up, and if she does, there could be permanent damage to her brain."

Grissom stayed silent, keeping a tight hold of Catherine's hand.

Catherine continued, "the doctors let us check her for evidence, and the S.O.E.C kit came back - it backs up what you said about sleeping with her on Wednesday, there was no sign of her having had sex within the last 24 hours, and no signs of sexual trauma."

"I don't understand." he spoke but it came out as a whisper. It went against the killer's M.O to leave her alive, and not rape her.

"She was badly beaten, Gil. She obviously fought back against the guy. We think that he strangled her to try and restrain her, but she lost consciousness, and he thought he'd killed her, and left. We've taken scrapings from under her nails, hopefully she got something in the struggle."

"Have they checked my DNA against the hair found at victim three and compared it? It should rule me out. If you get DNA from under her nails, you could compare that too; rule me out from all of it."

"Greg's on the case, Gil. We've got to hand over to Ecklie once we've finished our processing, he doesn't want us on the case now we're personally connected."

"I need to see her, Catherine."

She squeezed his hand, comfortingly.

"You didn't have to come and see me. You could have just left me here, not told me anything."

"I've known since you invited Sara to Vegas that you were in love with her, Gris."

"I don't care if I lose my job over this. I just want her to be okay."

"And I'm not going to lose you as a friend over this. I just wish you'd told me."

Grissom wrapped his arms around her tightly, and they stayed like that for a few minutes, before she pulled away, getting to her feet.

"I'm going to get you out of here, Gris." She promised, before leaving the cell.


	14. Chapter 14

Thanks for your reviews, sorry about the delay in updating.

Chapter Fourteen

Beeping filled her ears, a slow rhythmic beeping that penetrated her mind, aching with every beep. She let the noise settle in her brain, becoming accustomed to it; she realized after a while that it was the beating of her heart running through a machine. She must be in hospital. She could feel a dull ache across the entirety of her body, apart from a warmth on her hand. She found the warmth comforting, and squeezed her fingers around the hand that was holding hers.

"Sara." It sounded far away, quiet, but it was there. Grissom.

Her heart surged, she wanted to speak to him, but she couldn't. Her body was too weak.

"Just sleep, honey." He spoke to her, and with his words she felt reassurance, but she wanted to see him, to make sure she wasn't dreaming, that he really was there, next to her.

The bright light hurt her eyes, but she slowly eased them open, taking in the patterns of the ceiling as it came into focus. She closed her eyes again, for a second, the second time she opened her eyes the light was easier to take in, and although she couldn't move her head quite yet, she felt relieved to be able to see clearly. She could hear Grissom calling for a doctor, and felt someone's hands on her arm, possibly injecting her, but Grissom kept hold of her hand, and she felt tears roll down her cheeks as her mind flooded with its memories. Within seconds, Grissom was sitting further up near her, wiping her tears from her cheeks with his fingers. She could see him, and her heart felt as though it may burst with love for him, despite and because of everything that they'd been through. He smiled at her, but she could see concern on his face.

Tears continued to pour freely, relieving her eyes slightly from their dryness. He stroked her hair for a few minutes until her tears started to subside, and he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. There were so many unanswered questions between them, regarding their relationship alone, but Sara chose to take his presence with comfort, rather than try to find answers.

"If you can hear me, Sara, blink once." He spoke to her.

She blinked once. She wanted to know what damage had been done to her, and the look in her eyes must have shown this, as Grissom started to explain.

"The doctors say you have severe bruising all over your body…" Grissom's grip on her hand tightened slightly as he paused, "Your seventh rib has been broken, as are the fingers on your right hand. You have injuries to your head. You've been in a coma for the past three days, Sara. The doctors said that you lost air for such a long time that your body had no other choice. We weren't sure you'd wake up again."

She shut her eyes. She couldn't bear to look at him any longer; she wondered what he was looking at, did she even look like Sara anymore? Or did she look like a faceless victim?

"The others want to see you." He spoke.

"No." It was barely audible, but she relieved to have been able to make a word.

"Ecklie wants to take your statement."

"No." This time she was more forceful, there was no way Ecklie would be allowed in her hospital room.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Water."

Grissom left her side to go in search of water. She tried to make an effort to raise her head, she felt disorientated. Pulling her head forward, a searing pain ran through her neck and head, and she groaned in discomfort. She was desperately battling with the memories of what had happened, she tried to think of anything else, even focusing on the pain in her body to try and diminish the thoughts. A doctor saw her struggling, from outside in the corridor, and came to help. With the doctor's help, Sara's bed was gently eased into more of a sitting position.

The room was small, but she was thankful it was a private one. All white, as a hospital should be, a small beside table and plastic chair next to her, an en-suite bathroom came off the room, the floor was laminate, the door had a small window in it, and opposite was a large window with a view of the night's sky. Sara took the opportunity to look down at her arms – they were bruised heavily, marked from where she was held. Her right hand was in a cast, her left had an infusion attached, she was connected to a drip by the side of the bed.

The steady beeping of the machine was the only sound she could hear, she closed her eyes again, not wanting to sleep, just relax from the strain of the bright lights, but she closed her eyes only to see her attack taking place all over again.

Grissom entered the room a few minutes later, a cup of water with a straw in it in one hand, a book in the other. He sat back down in the chair, and placed the straw between Sara's lips, keeping the cup steady as she sipped. The cool water was an utter relief to her system, and she drunk the contents of the cup, before Grissom placed it on the bedside table, and sat back in the chair, keeping hold of her left hand.

He opened the book he wad holding, "I thought you might appreciate a story." He smiled.

Sara managed a small smile, although she could feel the bruises on her face ache as she did so. She eyed the title of the book 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' by William Shakespeare.

* * *

><p>Sara didn't know how long she'd slept for, but when she awoke, Grissom was still by her side, staring out of the window. Daylight was pouring in, giving the room a warmer glow. "Hey." She croaked.<p>

He smiled at her, and held up a cup of water.

She nodded; the pain on her neck had eased ever so slightly. She sipped at the water through the straw, finishing the cup.

"I asked the doctors to up your pain meds. You looked as though you were in pain as you slept."

"Thank you."

He smiled at her, placing a kiss on her hand before a knock at the door startled them both. The door pushed open and one of Ecklie's team stood in the doorway. Grissom rose to his feet, ready to remove the man from Sara's room.

"We need a statement from Miss Sidle in order to pursue our investigation." The man spoke.

"Well you're going to have to wait; she's too tired to be giving a statement." Grissom replied.

"It's okay, Grissom," Sara said, "But I'm only giving a statement to Catherine."

The man left the room, closing the door behind him, and Grissom sat back down.

"If it's too early, Sara, you don't have to." He explained.

"I want to help." As much as she didn't want to speak of her attack, Sara knew from experience that sometimes a victim's statement could crack a case. She owed it to the women who hadn't been lucky enough to survive.

"I'll go and find her, okay?" Grissom kissed her cheek ever so softly, before leaving the room.

Sara traced the cast on her right hand with her free left hand, feeling the plaster with her fingertips. She wiggled her toes under the covers, but it was draining trying to produce so much movement from her body. Her eyes rose from her body to see Catherine enter the room.

Suddenly Sara felt quite embarrassed at the state she was in, dressed in a hospital gown that hung over her body loosely, wires coming from her hand and from her chest.

"Hey, Sara." Catherine came and sat down next to her.

"Hi." Sara had wondered why she'd asked Catherine to come, instead of Nick, but on reflection she knew Nick would make it personal, would be more interested in her, Catherine wanted to take her statement properly. She was more professional, wasn't she? Sara watched Catherine's eyes fill with tears, and there was silence between them for a few minutes, before Catherine balanced her notepad on her knees, a pen in one hand, and she took Sara's hand with the other. Sara was surprised by Catherine's closeness with her, but held onto her hand.

"I'm so sorry this has happened to you, Sara," Catherine spoke, staring down at her notepad; she began writing the date on the top of the page, "If you could just tell me everything that happened, from when you left the lab."

Sara cleared her throat, wincing a little at the pain, "Grissom and I had an argument, he took me off the case, so I drove home," her speech was slow, her voice dropping into a whisper occasionally as she struggled to talk, "I got back to my apartment block, parked my car in its normal spot. I entered the building, it was all normal, got to my apartment, had a shower, dressed, had a couple of beers in front of the television, then there was a knock at the door."

"Okay, you're doing great." Catherine smiled softly.

"I opened the door," Sara shut her eyes, trying to picture it, even though the thoughts were making her stomach churn, "he was tall, 6ft 5 or 6, blonde short hair, spiked, around 30 years old, well-built, tanned skin, like a surfer. He had jeans and a red t-shirt on. As soon as I opened the door, he pushed his way in." A shuddering breath escaped Sara's body, and she paused.

Catherine's thumb brushed back and forth against the back of Sara's hand comfortingly, "it's okay."

"He grabbed me by my wrists; he had the tape in his hand. Duct tape. I scratched his face, and he bound my wrists with the tape." Sara opened her eyes to look at Catherine.

"We got your fingernail scrapings; the DNA matches the other DNA we had previously from another victim."

"He pressed me up against a wall, by my neck, he hit my head backwards on it, and then pushed me onto the bed… he pulled my jogging pants off, he had his hands over my legs, under my top, his weight on top of me, he sat back to unbuckle his jeans, I kicked him and tried to get away, to get my gun…I screamed for help, but the party upstairs was so loud, I don't think anybody heard me," another breath, Sara tried to settle herself, but she knew she was shaking. "He got me back on the bed, pulled me by the wrists, leant on my chest with his knee; he punched me several times to my head, but I was still struggling, I think I got a punch in, so he put his hands around my throat and pushed… I don't remember anything else."

"He didn't have a weapon?"

"No."

"Did you recognize him at all? Did he have a uniform on or any sort? Any distinguishing features?"

"No, I'd never seen him before in my life. He looked… normal. I don't understand how he had access to the building."

"I'll focus on catching him, Sara; you just focus on getting better."

"Who found me?"

"Brass did, he went to check on you after he heard you'd been taken off the case. He had PD break in when there was no answer. Doctors say if he hadn't acted so quickly, this all could have been a lot worse."

"I thought I was going to die, Catherine. I thought when he put his hands around my throat that that was it." Sara choked back tears.

Catherine rose from her seat, and slipped her arms around Sara's body, hugging her gently. "Nick and Warrick want to see you; can I bring them over tomorrow?"

She nodded, and Catherine left the room, allowing Grissom to enter again.

"I need to sleep, Gil." She said, drained.

"Can I stay?"

"Read to me, please, while I sleep. I like having you here."

Grissom obliged, sitting back down and opening his book. Sara fell asleep within the first sentence.


	15. Chapter 15

Ahh so sorry for the delay, got a new idea going in my head that won't get out LOL. Hoping to get another update done for this one mid-week. Thanks for your reviews so far!

Chapter Fifteen

Grissom slid the closed book onto the beside table, his hand still laid on Sara's as she slept. It was 4am, and he hadn't slept for days, but his body didn't need to sleep, as long as Sara needed him, he would be here, wide awake.

He watched as she slept, she looked peaceful; her chest rising and falling with breaths, the steady beeping of the machines she was attached to were the only thing that stopped the room from being silent. Grissom took a sip of the coffee he'd gotten himself earlier, it was now stone cold, but he drunk it anyway. Nick and Warrick were going to come and visit after work, he could get himself a hot coffee then, but for now, he stayed with Sara.

_He was laid on the hard bed of the cell, but hadn't even contemplated the idea of sleeping. Hours since Catherine had left his side, he felt like he had become lost in the world inside his mind. Eyes closed, he imagined Sara by his side, in his arms, they'd be in his bed, the TV on in the background, just enjoying the feeling of being side-by-side. He could almost smell her, to the point where he had to open his eyes to check she wasn't there. He remembered her soft skin on his fingertips, the warmth of her body against his. It'd been so long since he'd been with anyone, years before he'd even met Sara in San Francisco, he didn't take relationships lightly, and the trust and love for the people who he'd been with in the past had backfired many times, causing him great pain, making him resolute that he would never make himself vulnerable again. So he'd become a man of great thought, planning and deliberation, never to make a decision on impulse again, at least not a decision of the heart._

_That was until Sara had appeared into his life, sitting beautifully in his seminar, staring at him with those big brown eyes, staying behind in his classes, making small talk, until the last day, when she'd asked him to go for dinner, and he'd accepted. They'd shared food, wine, and he'd driven her home. He'd placed his hand on hers over dinner, and she'd captured his heart. They'd written to each other for two years, but only ever as friends, and when the lab asked him to find a replacement for Holly Gibbs, he'd recommended Sara straight away._

_It all seemed a lifetime ago. Now he was laid in this cell, a cell he'd watched murderers be led into. He'd worked to put so many people in here; it sickened him to be in here himself, but it physically hurt his heart, and his soul, to be away from Sara, to not even know if she was okay. The cell door clicked and Grissom sat up to see Catherine and Brass._

"_Your alibi for the second murder has checked out on lab CCTV, and your DNA doesn't match what was found on the murders. Charges are dropped, you can go." Brass explained simply._

_Grissom rose from his feet, his body sore. "I want to see Sara."_

"_Ecklie is launching an investigation into your relationship with Sara, and until then you are on suspension from the lab. He is also going to consider your employment, due to the fact you've been arrested. It's usually an automatic dismissal, but he's taking it into review, for some reason." Brass's voice remained flat, and he left once he'd finished his sentence, not waiting for Grissom to reply._

"_Is she awake yet?" Grissom asked Catherine, who was still stood at the cell door._

_She ushered him out of the cell, out of the building, to her car, "She's still in a coma, but the doctors said she can receive visitors. I've finished taking my photos and collecting evidence so her body has been released from the crime scene investigation."_

_Grissom didn't appreciate the way in which Catherine spoke about Sara, but kept quiet, she had been more than kind to him, and he figured maybe it was easier to think of Sara as being part of a case, rather than a colleague, at this point in time. They shared the rest of the drive to the hospital in silence._

A gentle knock at the door startled Grissom from his thoughts, and he gently let go of Sara's hand to get up and answer it. Nick and Warrick stood in the door way, and they both hugged him tightly, before he let them into the room.

"I'll get some more chairs." Warrick said, realizing there was only one in there.

"How is she?" Nick asked, looking worriedly from Sara to Grissom.

"She gave her statement to Catherine; she's had some water to drink, but otherwise just sleeping."

Warrick joined them again, with two more chairs, sitting them next to the chair that was already there. "How are you doing, Gris?"

"I'm fine." Grissom lied, he was far from fine, his body was exhausted, his mind much more so, but he was filled with an adamant necessity to remain strong - strong for Sara, strong for himself, desperate not to fall apart at what had occurred.

"Why don't you go and get yourself a coffee?" Nick asked.

Grissom nodded, taking a glance at Sara, still sleeping, before leaving the room. The hospital was quiet, doctors walking down the corridors together, clipboards in hand, stethoscopes around their necks. Grissom could feel himself start to breathe deeply again, like he'd almost been holding his breath whilst in Sara's room. He slid coins into the coffee machine once he'd reached it, and the machine dropped a cup down before filling it with the hot liquid. He felt his tension replace with tiredness, and was thankful when the coffee finished pouring, and he took the cup from the machine.

Sipping it straight away, he winced a little as it burned his mouth, but he felt the caffeine run through his body quickly, rejuvenating him.

"Hey, Grissom, Sara's awake."

Nick's voice made him spin around from the machine; Nick was approaching him down the hall.

"She's asking for you." Nick added, making his way to the machine and feeding coins in to the slot.

"Hot chocolate, Nick?" Grissom smiled at him.

"She's also asking for a hot chocolate," Nick grinned.

Grissom waited with Nick for the hot chocolate to finish pouring, before they both made their way back to Sara's room.

"I hope you can come back to the lab, Grissom." Nick spoke as they walked.

"It's up to Ecklie." Grissom shrugged. He also hoped that it would be possible for him to return to work in some capacity, he loved his job, but he'd chosen Sara, and if Ecklie was twisted enough to make him choose, it'd be Sara without a shadow of a doubt.

"Do you think Sara will?"

"It's early days, Nicky, we'll have to see."

"I'm glad," Nick replied, "about you and Sara."

Grissom smiled at him, "Thanks Nick."

He pushed open the door and held it open for Nick to go in first, passing the hot chocolate to Sara, who was now sat up in bed.

"Feeling better?" Grissom asked, approaching the bed and placing a kiss atop her forehead.

She smiled at him, the smile reached her eyes and his heart surged. Warrick moved from the chair nearest her bed, taking the one next to it, allowing Grissom to be nearest her.

Grissom watched as she shakily sipped her hot chocolate, obvious the muscles in the arm were still weak.

"I want to get out of here, Grissom," she spoke, "I hate hospitals."

"Soon." He promised. Knowing Sara wouldn't be able to face her own apartment, he knew she'd have to stay somewhere else. She could stay with him, there'd be space in the spare room if she wanted to be alone, but she'd be there, and he could take care of her.

"_Mr Grissom, Sara has been badly beaten, and has suffered multiple injuries. There are a lot of wires, but the machines are there to keep her supported. She hasn't shown any signs yet of coming out of the coma, but many people think it is possible for coma patients to hear what is going on around them.." The doctor spoke calmly to Grissom, face to face outside Sara's hospital room door._

_Grissom nodded, solemnly._

"_You're welcome to stay for as long as you like." The doctor said, before making his way back down the corridors._

_Catherine hadn't come into the hospital with him, so Grissom was alone, stood outside of Sara's hospital room. He placed his hand on the door handle, and pushed it, opening the door slowly. Sara lay on the hospital bed across the room, motionless. The white sheets of the bed contrasted with the purple bruises across her face and neck, one of her hands in bandage, the other laying beside her, her knuckles split from an obvious struggle._

_He felt a sob escape his lips and quickly took her un-bandaged hand in his as he reached the side of the bed, "Oh Sara, my love."_

_He stood there in silence for a few minutes, willing her to wake up, but she remained still. Her eyes closed, her lips parted slightly as she breathed softly._

"_I don't know if you can hear if me, but I love you Sara, I'm so sorry things have turned out like this… I have only ever wanted to make you happy and keep you safe," Grissom paused, taking a shuddering breath, "you're the only thing that matters to me. You have to wake up, Sara... Please wake up."_

_A hot tear slid down Grissom's cheek, and he brushed it away quickly, he sat down in the chair next to the bed, "Beautiful Sara, I have loved you for so long. Please come back to me." _

Nick and Warrick stayed for an hour, before Sara could barely keep her eyes open with tiredness. "You should go home, Gris, get some sleep."

"I'm okay." Grissom protested.

"I'll be fine here. I'm just going to sleep, it'll be really boring." She smiled at him.

He remained silent for a few minutes, and then gave in, "Okay, I'll go, but I'll be back in a couple of hours."

She nodded gently, and he let go of her hand, placing a feather-light kiss on her lips as he rose from his seat.

"Do you want me to bring anything with me?"

"I need some of my things, a toothbrush, some clothes."

He nodded. He'd have to contact Catherine to make sure her apartment had been released from the investigation, but was glad Sara was thinking forward. "I'll bring them with me." He promised, and closed the door behind him.


	16. Chapter 16

Wow. This has been a long time! I can only apologise for the delay,but here we are. A new chapter (a short one to get back into it all). I currently am writing two other stories too, so will be posting them too. Hope people are still reading/interested in this one. Here goes...

Chapter Sixteen

Sara's body ached with the movements required to dress herself. She carefully slid on her black jeans and pulled a white cotton t-shirt over her head. She felt rejuvenated to be in her normal clothes instead of a hospital gown.

The whiteness of her t-shirt made the bruising to her skin look worse than it was, although she admitted to herself, it _was_ actually pretty bad. Her knuckle had healed quite well in the six days she had been kept in hospital, and although her other hand was out of plaster, it was still unusable - the doctors had told her it would take a few weeks till it had any proper movement.

Grissom was sat on the chair next to her bed, coffee in hand, eyes diverted whilst she dressed. She had agreed to stay at his house for a few days, just until she felt steadier on her feet, and it meant the team could keep her apartment as an open crime scene for a little longer. She had heard nothing regarding the case, another reason to stay with Grissom, with the killer still on the streets; he may want to finish what he started.

Pushing her feet into her work boots, she rose slowly from the bed to her feet, Grissom noticing her movement and rushing to her side. He slid his arm around her waist to support her. "Are you ready to go?" he asked.

She nodded; her head throbbed painfully with the rise of her body, when it had spent the last six days against a pillow.

Grissom's fingers grazed over her bandages through the cotton of her t-shirt. Her stomach was bandaged to help her broken rib heal, she looked forward to getting it off but the doctor said that it would be another few days.

It was at that moment a nurse entered the room, pushing a wheelchair in front of her. "I heard you were being discharged today, so I thought you might want this." she offered helpfully.

"No." Sara's reply was sharp. "I don't need that."

"It's only to get you to my car, Sara." Grissom explained.

"No. I'm not going in that. I want to walk." Sara noticed a look pass between the nurse and Grissom but they both stayed silent. Grissom gathered Sara's belongings as she steadied herself against the end of the bed. A couple of minutes later they were both heading down the corridors of the hospital, albeit slowly. Grissom signed Sara's discharge forms at the reception desk and they made their way out into the Vegas sunshine.

Sara slammed her eyes shut with the glare of the sunlight in her eyes. It felt good to have the warmth of the sun on her skin, and after a few seconds paused at the doors, her eyes accustomed to the bright light and she and Grissom headed across the parking lot.

"I've set up the spare room for you, it should have everything you need, and the fridge is fully stocked so you shouldn't go hungry whilst I'm at the lab." Grissom explained, unlocking the passenger door and helping Sara into the seat, buckling her seatbelt before chucking her holdall into the backseat.

Sara frowned as Grissom got into the passenger seat. "Gris, I'm going to work tomorrow. I won't need to stay at your apartment without you there."

"You're not going to work."

"I am, Grissom. What am I going to do sat in your apartment for days on end? I'll drive myself insane."

"Sara, less than a week ago, you were nearly raped and killed by someone who is still out there. You were in a coma-"

"I need to go back to work." She wasn't asking for Grissom's permission, she was going to work the next day, whether he liked it or not. He knew she wouldn't back down.

"I'll talk to Ecklie about it."

His response was short, but it wasn't a 'no', so Sara settled with it. She looked at him as he drove them to this apartment. He was keeping something from her, she was sure of it, but she didn't push it.

They were soon at their destination, and Grissom helped her from the passenger seat, her bag slung over his shoulder as he helped her remain steady down the pathway to the apartment block. Grissom unlocked the front door of his ground-floor apartment, letting Sara in carefully before closing the door behind them. It was as the door clicked shut that Sara's phone rang. She pulled it from her jeans and put it to her ear.

Grissom watched her intently, a worried expression across his face.

"Sara, it's Catherine."

"Hi, Catherine. What's up?"

"We might have got him. We need you to I.D at the station."

"I'll be there in ten minutes."


	17. Chapter 17

Sorry for the delay with this one, hope it was worth the wait! :)

Chapter Seventeen

Grissom had refused to take her at first, several times, even calling Catherine to see if they could simply make the arrest without Sara's I.D of the suspect. Catherine had reminded him that Sara was the only victim alive, and the evidence they had collected simply wouldn't stand up in court on its own. Sara's identification of her attacker would seal their findings.

He grudgingly drove her to the lab. Half worried about her health, both physical and mental, at the events that had affected her recently. Half worried someone would tell her what had happened while she had been in a coma, that he had been arrested and may not even be her supervisor anymore, he didn't even know if _she_ still had a job. It was all down to Ecklie, and Grissom hated that the fate of the person he cared about most was in the hands of that two-faced creep.

The drive was silent, apart from the occasional badly stifled groan from Sara as the car went over bumps in the road. Grissom kept a comforting hand on her thigh, although who it comforted more he was not sure. They reached the lab and Grissom parked up the jeep before helping Sara out.

The team and Ecklie were gathered in Grissom's office. The fact that he and Sara had been allowed past reception unaccompanied meant they were either still employed, or Ecklie was giving them a sympathetic allowance. Grissom highly doubted the latter.

Sara glanced unsurely at Grissom before they entered the staff room, his arm was around her waist supporting her, his fingers resting on her waist. She was obviously aware of how close they would appear to the team. Grissom knew he at least had to burden her with the one fact, she would need to know. "They know about us." he whispered in her ear, but didn't pause their steps to get her reaction. It was better not to dwell on the details right now.

"Sara!" Nick grinned happily as she and Grissom got into the office. Grissom gave Sara a little room to receive hugs, but still kept close enough in case her legs buckled. He could see she was shaking.

"I'm so glad you came." Catherine commented, simply rubbing Sara's arm a little, rather than engulf her in a hug.

"Shall we get on with it?" Sara asked, looking calm, although the shake in her voice made Grissom want to scoop her up in his arms, drive them straight back to his house and keep her safe. She shouldn't be here.

Sara and Catherine made their way to leave the office, and Grissom turned to follow, but Ecklie held him back. "We need to talk." he sat in Grissom's chair and motioned Grissom towards the other.

Grissom paused for a second, watching Nick and Warrick leave before taking a seat on the opposite side of the desk.

"Catherine will take good care of her." Ecklie reassured him. These comforting words surprised Grissom, but the next sentence that came from Ecklie's mouth did not. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

Grissom didn't know if he was meant to answer that or not, so he stayed silent. Instead he watched the tarantula on his desk climb around its glass case, it didn't have a care in the world.

"You're supervisor of a whole team; you're responsible for each of them. This is such a conflict of interest as well as an utter embarrassment to the lab; I don't know where to start..." Ecklie paused, playing with a pen in his hand, almost anxiously, "I should just sack you both now."

"Then why don't you?" Grissom knew he was now playing with fire to ask such a question, but it was said now.

"Because, unfortunately, you're two of my best CSIs." It looked as though it pained Ecklie to say it. "How long have you been sleeping with her?"

Grissom raised his eyebrows at such a direct question. "Just the once."

"Is it going to continue?"

"Yes." Grisson couldn't be 100% sure that that was the case, he hadn't spoken to Sara about it, but he hoped with all his heart that it was."I love her."

Ecklie rolled his eyes, placing the pen from his hand down on the desk. "Catherine will handle all of Sidle's reviews, case files, anything that you may be biased upon. Understand?"

Grissom nodded.

Ecklie continued. "If for any reason, this becomes an issue, I'll just get rid of both of you."

"Okay." Grissom accepted. "Can I find Sara now?"

Ecklie nodded and the men rose to their feet. No other words passed between them, and they left the office in silence.

Grissom quickly made his way towards the interrogation rooms, but stopped dead in his tracks in the corridor. Sara was leant up against one of the corridor walls, her head bowed; Catherine was stood in front of her, one had on her shoulder, talking to her softly.

"What happened?" his pace picked up until he was standing next to the two women. He caught a glimpse of Sara's facial expression through the hair that had fallen over her face. She looked blank.

"She identified him." Catherine looked up at Grissom, but kept her hand on Sara's shoulder.

"Sara?" Grissom took one of Sara's hands, it was limp, but he kept hold of it. "Come on, honey, let's go home."

"She was alright until we got in there, and she identified him, and then just… shut down." Catherine looked helpless.

Grissom didn't know what to say. He wanted someone to blame for Sara's reaction to the situation she had been put in, no matter how necessary anyone had felt it was. Trying to remain calm, he wrapped his arm around Sara's waist and helped her back to the car.

As they drove back, he kept looking over at her, but she just kept the same blank expression. It seemed to pain him more every time he looked at her. It wasn't until they were in his apartment, with the door closed and his arms around her tightly, that she finally began to sob.


End file.
